LIBRARY 

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IRVINE 


BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF  THIS  VOLUME. 


The  Story  of  Don  Miff, 

As  told  by  bis  friend,  John  Bouche  Whacker. 

A  SYMPHONY   OF   LIFE. 
EDITED    BY    VIRGINIUS    DA.BNEY. 

Sixth  Edition.     12010.     Extra  cloth.     {1.50. 


OPINIONS   OF  THE   PRESS. 

"  It  contains  unmistakable  evidence  of  genuine  story-telling  ability  ; 
there  are  bits  here  and  there  which  can  be  praised  almost  without  quali- 
fication ;  there  are  glimpses  of  whimsical  humor  of  a  quite  unusual 
sort ;  and  there  are  pictures  of  old  times  in  Virginia,  which  have  almost 
a  historical  value." — Christian  Union  (N.Y.). 

"  In  his  method  the  author  is  as  whimsical  as  the  author  of '  Tristram 
Shandy.'  It  is  a  dangerous  experiment,  but  it  must  be  said  that  the 
author's  wit  and  vivacity  vindicate  his  wilfulness." — Hartford  Courant. 

"Simple,  unaffected,  hardly  putting  on  any  literary  fashion,  the 
story  moves  straight  on  with  overwhelming  sweep  of  interest.  .  .  .  The 
author's  wealth  of  resources,  his  mastery  of  the  English  language,  and 
his  sarcastic  wit  that  gleams  and  cuts  like  a  Damascene  blade,  are  no- 
where more  apparent  than  in  the  two  pages  devoted  to  Mr.  Cable.  Of 
the  many  replies  which  the  South  has  made  to  the  author  of '  Dr.  Sevier,' 
none  has  gone  so  straight  to  the  mark  as  this  polished  shaft,  aimed  with 
consummate  skill." — Richmond  State. 

"  It  is  a  thoughtful,  affectionate,  and  truthful  picture,  and  binds  0111 
attention  by  qualities  of  a  high  order.  .  .  .  Besides  a  very  broad 
conception  of  large  events,  and  a  notable  power  of  description  and 
characterization,  the  writer  has  an  erudite  but  not  a  weighty  style,  and 
displays  a  very  brisk  and  fanciful  humor.  .  .  ." — Commercial  Ad- 
vertiser (N.Y.). 

"  Hardly  a  single  chapter  can  be  read  without  a  laugh,  and  yet  there 
are  some  which  will  bring  an  inevitable  lump  into  the  reader's  throat. 
.  .  .  There  are  passages  which  in  simple  pathos  remind  one  vividly  of 
Bret  Harte.  .  .  .  Taken  altogether  it  is  one  of  the  most  entertaining 
books  we  have  read  of  late,  and  will,  no  doubt,  be  as  widely  appreciated 
here  as  in  its  own  country." — London  Pall  Mall  Rudget  (Gazette). 


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GOLD 


THAT  DID  NOT  GLITTER. 


A    NOVEL. 


BY 

VIRGINIUS  J3ABNEY, 

AUTHOR   OF   "  DON    MIFF." 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J.   B.   LIPPINCOTT   COMPANY. 


PS 

I'm 


Copyright,  1889,  by  VIRGINIUS  DABNEY. 


GOLD  THAT  DID  NOT  GLITTER. 


i. 


HE  was  One  of  the  Finest. 

And  whenever  he  swung  jauntily  along  his 
beat,  carelessly  twirling  his  persuasive  locust, 
house-maids  ceased,  for  a  moment,  polish- 
ing window-panes,  baby-carriages  stood  still, 
cooks  peered  through  basement  windows. 
For  the  brass  buttons  stood  high  on  his  bold 
chest,  and  the  blue  cloth  lay  flat  and  smooth 
on  his  broad  back.  Trim  was  his  moustache, 
too,  elastic  his  tread,  and  the  roses  on  his 
cheeks  made  a  pretty  contrast  with  the  azure 
of  his  laughing  eyes. 

But,  although  he  was  considerably  under 
thirty  years  of  age,  Delany's  figure  had  al- 

3 


4  Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

ready  begun  to  hint  that  he  was  not  to  escape 
the  fate  of  policemen ;  for  already  had  grace 
of  outline  begun  to  give  way  to  solidity  of 
form.  So  he  puffed  a  little  as  he  mounted 
the  flight  of  steps  that  lead  from  the  river 
level  to  the  terrace  which  overlooks  East 
River  at  the  foot  of  Fifty- First  Street.  When 
he  reached  the  topmost  step,  or,  rather,  the 
one  next  the  last,  he  gave  a  good  strong  puff, 
and,  leaning  on  the  parapet,  cast  his  eye  care- 
lessly up  the  street. 

Night  had  fallen,  though  somewhat  pre- 
maturely; for  black  clouds  veiled  the  sky, 
from  which  was  floating  down,  flake  by  flake, 
the  first  snow  of  the  season. 

There  were  not  many  people  on  the  street, 
— here  a  man  stalking  home  to  his  dinner, 
there  a  woman  scuttling  along  to  save  her 
new  winter  bonnet.  Blocks  away  a  lamp- 
lighter hurried  from  post  to  post.  In  the 
nearer  distance  a  messenger  boy  sauntered, 
whistling. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.  5 

All  these  the  professional  eye  of  the  officer 
took  in  at  a  glance,  lingering,  however,  upon 
one  figure, — that  of  a  young  man  who  ap- 
proached with  bent  head,  and  staggering  from 
side  to  side. 

Definitions  are  proverbially  difficult.  A 
hundred  philologians  will  give  you  a  hundred 
equivalents  of  the  simple  word  drunk,  for 
example ;  their  wives  a  hundred  more.  For 
the  definition  of  this  word,  as  of  others  of  an 
objurgatory  tendency,  is  apt  to  be  a  sort  of 
etymological  lasso,  of  which  you  hold  one 
end  while  the  other  nooses  your  friend. 

But  a  policeman  is  not  a  philologian.  A 
man  of  action,  rather ;  and,  as  such,  he  has 
adopted,  in  reference  to  what  constitutes 
drunkenness,  a  very  simple  working  hypoth- 
esis :  if  a  man  falls  half  a  dozen  times  in 
one  block  and  rises  after  each  tumble,  whose 
business  is  it  ?  Men,  meeting  him,  may  smile, 
women  shrink,  affrighted,  against  the  wall, 
troops  of  boys  follow  in  his  zigzag  wake, 
i* 


6  Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

jeering  joyously;  but  the  guardian  of  the 
peace  sees  him  not.  But  let  him  fall  once  too 
often, — fall  and  rise  not, — and  he  straightway 
becomes  a  professional  fact. 

So  Delany,  rested  now,  takes  the  last  step 
of  the  stone  stairway,  and  goes  sauntering  up 
the  street,  carelessly  twitching  the  leathern 
thong  of  his  club,  with  head  thrown  back 
and  eyes  fixed  on  the  lowering  clouds 
above. 

About  forty  or  fifty  feet  from  the  terrace  is 
a  lamp.  Under  this  the  two  men  met ;  and 
although  Delany,  with  his  eyes  riveted  upon 
the  clouds,  swerved  considerably  to  the  right, 
a  sudden  lurch  of  his  vis-a-vis  brought  their 
shoulders  together.  Even  so,  the  stalwart 
officer,  with  a  momentary  glance  to  the  left, 
was  passing  on  without  a  word. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  young  man, 
quickly ;  and  then,  raising  his  eyes  and  seeing 
that  a  policeman  stood  before  him,  he  stag- 
gered back  with  a  troubled  look. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.  7 

A  flash  of  interrogation  swept  across  the 
roundsman's  intelligent  face  as  he  heard  the 
words  and  saw  the  look. 

The  two  men  bowed  and  passed  on. 

But  Delany  had  lost  his  interest  in  the  sky. 
With  head  bent  forward  and  pursed  brows,  he 
moved  slowly  forward.  Presently  he  stopped, 
and,  half  turning  in  his  tracks,  looked  back 
over  his  shoulder.  The  young  man  was 
doing  the  same  thing,  and  their  eyes  met. 
Each  quickly  turned  and  moved  forward 
again. 

But  something  was  on  the  policeman's 
mind ;  for  he  had  not  gone  forward  five  paces 
before  he  stopped  again,  and  stood  still,  medi- 
tatively tapping  the  snow-clad  pavement  with 
his  club.  Suddenly  he  wheeled  about  and 
fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  retreating  figure.  He 
watched  it  for  a  moment,  then  moved  forward 
two  or  three  steps,  then  halted  again,  then  a 
few  more  steps  in  advance;  till,  presently, 
coming  to  a  decision  apparently,  he  threw 


8  Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

back  his  head  and  began  to  follow,  with  slow 
and  measured  stride. 

"  Shure,  and  you  won't  be  after  runnin'  the 
poor  mon  in?  Lave  him  in  pace!  a  drop 
or  so  too  much,  yis;  but  what  o'  that?" 

"  And  is  it  you,  Maggie  darlin',  as  would 
be  interferin'  with  a  member  of  the  force  in 
the  discharge  of  his  duty?"  And  Delany, 
diverted  from  his  half-formed  purpose,  what- 
ever it  might  have  been,  sauntered  leisurely 
across  the  street  to  where  a  rosy-cheeked 
house-maid  stood  in  an  area,  her  arms  resting 
on  the  railing. 

"  He  is  a  bit  full,  that's  a  fact,  cap'n,"  said 
Maggie,  with  her  eyes  in  the  direction  of  the 
terrace. 

"  And  it's  full  he  was,  think  ye  ?  But  full 
and  impty,  impty  and  full,  they  come  much 
to  the  same  sometimes,  Maggie  mavourneen." 

"  Shure,  and  you  don't  mane  to  say  the 
gintleman  was  starving ;  for  he  was  a  gintle- 
man,  intoirely,  by  the  cut  of  him  ?" 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.  9 

"And  it's  meself  as  would  be  proud  to 
starve  foriver  for  that  swate  and  tinder  look, 
Maggie !" 

"  Be  done  with  your  flatthery,  mon,  and  tell 
me  how  ye  know  'twas  imptiness  ailed  him  ?" 

"And  wasn't  it  meself  that  saw  his  face 
under  the  lamp?" 

"And  the  lamplighter  is  just  lightin'  it 
now!" 

"  "The  lamplighter,  is  it  ?  And  what  nade 
of  the  spalpeen,  with  Maggie's  eyes  across 
the  way?" 

"  Och,  the  blarney  of  the  mon !"  laughed 
the  delighted  Maggie. 

"Blarney  is  it?" 

"  Yis,  and  the  same  to  every  gurrl  on  your 
bate !" 

"  Divil  a  bit,  divil  a  bit  of  it,  Maggie 
darlin' !" 

"  And  what  were  you  a-sayin'  to  the  cook, 
thin,  on  the  next  block,  as  you  came  down  a 
bit  ago  ?  Oh,  the  desatefulness  of  a  mon  !" 


JO         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  Desavin'  the  widow  Flaherty,  was  I  ? 
And  all  I  tould  her -was  that  I  thought  we 
were  goin'  to  have  some  weather!  And 
wasn't  it  snowin'  at  the  toime?  Desateful- 
ness,  indade!  Och,  but  the  cruelty  of  a 
woman !  But  run  in,  Rose  of  Killarney,  or 
ye'll  be  catchin'  a  heavy  could  in  that  white 
throat;  shure,  and  the  very  snow  blushes  for 
shame  when  it  lights  on  it !  and  thin  milts 
with  tinderness, — small  blame  to  it !" 

"Off  with  ye,  flattherer!"  but  she  added, 
as  he  moved  away,  "  The  desaver !  But  it's 
a  swate  tongue  he  has  in  his  head,  has  De- 
lany !" 


II. 


IN  a  great  cosmopolitan  city  a  mere  par- 
tition-wall ofttimes  curtains  apart  most  diverse 
fates.  Here  an  infant  utters  shrill  protest 
against  a  world  it  knew  not  an  hour  ago ; 
while,  next  door,  and  not  three  feet  away, 
an  octogenarian  breathes  his  last  weary  sigh. 
In  this  dainty  chamber,  the  cooings  of  a 
honeymoon ;  in  that,  the  ragings  of  jealousy. 
And  Joy  heareth  not  the  cry  of  Anguish, 
nor  Anguish  hers. 

And  while  Maggie  sat  at  the  basement 
window,  smiling  still,  and  wondering  whether 
the  approaching  postman  would  be  able  to 
match  the  sweet  cajoleries  of  the  roundsman, 
a  scene  far  different  from  the  one  we  have 
just  witnessed  was  enacting  down  by  the 
river's  brink.  Close  to  the  water's  edge 
stood  the  young  man  whom  we  have  just 


1 2         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

seen  staggering  along  the  street.  The  dark 
waves  are  surging  at  his  feet.  His  hands  are 
clasped  and  his  upturned  eyes  are  drinking 
in,  from  the  black  firmament  above,  a  despair 
that  is  blacker  still.  Let  the  impassioned 
words  that  his  trembling  lips  sob  forth  go 
unrecorded. 

And  now  he  is  done.  He  has  muttered 
his  last  prayer.  With  a  frantic  gesture  he 
covers  his  eyes  with  both  hands,  as  if  to  shut 
out  the  view  of  the  pitiless  river  in  front. 
And  then,  throwing  up  his  hands  with  a  low 
wail,  he  lowered  his  head  for  the  irremediable 
plunge;  and  in  an  instant  he  was  whirled 
three  feet  from  the  water's  edge  by  a  power- 
ful arm  that  girdled  his  waist. 

In  New  York  the  laws  provide  no  penalty 
for  suicide;  but  a  clumsy  attempt  at  it  is  a 
felony.  This  the  young  man  knew. 

"  You  can't  do  that !"  said  a  voice  at  the 
back  of  his  neck. 

"Can't  do  what?" 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         J  3 

"Why,  drown  yourself!" 
"  Who  told  you  I  wished  to  drown  my- 
self?" 

"Who  told  me?  Haven't  I  eyes?" 
"  Eyes  or  no  eyes,  I  defy  you  to  prove  it !" 
The  young  man  had  been  struck  by  the 
quick,  inquiring  glance  of  the  policeman,  and 
by  his  turning  for  a  second  look.  Naturally, 
therefore,  his  first  thought  was  that  he  had 
followed  him ;  but  how  had  he  managed  to 
creep  up  behind  him  unobserved?  He  was 
nabbed;  that  was  clear.  But  why  had  the 
officer  removed  his  coat  ?  For  the  stout  arm 
that  held  him  was  clad  in  a  shirt-sleeve 
merely, — a  sleeve  ending  in  a  snowy,  polished 
cuff  looped  with  costly  buttons.  And — 
stranger  still — no  boot  covered  the  stock- 
inged foot  planted  so  firmly  by  his  own ! 
and  the  snow  was  falling  heavily ! 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  asked  the  young  man, 
trying  to  twist  himself  into  a  sight  of  his 
captor's  face. 


1 4         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  A  friend,"  replied  he,  slightly  relaxing  his 
grasp.  And  the  two  men,  with  legs  inter- 
laced and  bodies  touching,  leaned  back  for 
a  look,  each  at  the  face  of  the  other. 

There  was  a  vivid  contrast  between  the 
two :  on  the  one  side,  pallor  and  that  strange 
glitter  in  the  eyes  that  emaciation  gives ;  on 
the  other,  perfect  health  and  vigor.  For 
a  while  neither  spoke.  Presently  the  pale 
young  man  said  to  the  other, — 

"What  were  you  doing  here,  in  this 
garb  ?" 

The  captor  started.  He  was  silent  for  a 
moment,  then  raised  his  eyes  to  those  of  his 
prisoner;  then,  slowly, — 

"  In  the  excitement  of  seizing  you,  I  had 
forgotten  why  I  was  here.  But,  as  I  have 
surprised  your  secret,  perhaps  honor  requires 
that  you  should  have  mine.  Can  you  be- 
lieve me  when  I  tell  you,"  continued  he,  with 
a  sad  smile,  "that  my  errand  was  the  same 
as  yours?" 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         J  5 

The  young  man  gave  a  cry  of  amazement : 
"  You  r  and  with  a  quick  glance  he  took  in 
the  handsomely-dressed  figure  before  him. 

"  Yes ;  and  but  for  a  policeman  who  loi- 
tered about  the  foot  of  those  steps  for  some 
time,  it  would  have  been  all  over  with  me 
before  you  came.  When  he  disappeared  be- 
hind the  terrace,  I  took  off  my  coat  and 
shoes,  and  was  about  to  plunge  in,  when  you 
appeared,  I  then  scrambled  into  that  depres- 
sion, hollowed  out  in  the  stones  by  the 
waves,  and  lay  crouched  there  till  you  should 
pass  on.  When  I  saw  that  you,  too " 

"But  why  on  earth " 

"  Ah,  that  I  cannot  tell !  Mere  instinct,  I 
suppose.  But  not  altogether.  Lying  within 
a  few  feet  of  you,  I  could  not  but  overhear 
your  farewell  words ;  and  those  words  con- 
vinced me — pardon  me — that  you  were  about 
to  commit  a  crime.  A  man  who  has  a 
mother  and  sister  to  pray  for,  has  no  right 
to  die  by  his  own  hand." 


1 6         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  You  are  right !  I  thank  you  !" 
The  two  men,  with  warmly-clasped  hands, 
stood  silent  for  a  while. 

"  But,"  resumed  the  last  speaker,  "  my  mo- 
tives were  not  altogether  bad.  I  had  a 
mother  and  sister  to  support,  but  could  get 
no  work  to  do,  and  they  were  supporting  me  ! 
— and  at  the  cost  of  the  cruellest  privations. 
But  I  should  have  endured  to  the  end;  yes, 
I  admit  that.  Something  might  have  turned 
up.  But  my  head  had  grown  so  dizzy 

through  want  of  food " 

"  Want  of  food  ?" 

"  Yes;  for  three  days  not  a  morsel  has " 

"  Merciful  God !  Here,  come  along  with 
me !"  cried  he,  seizing  his  arm.  "  Wait  a  mo- 
ment :  I  forgot  my  shoes  and  coat.  Here 
they  are, — all  right !  Now  come  on."  And, 
grasping  his  arm,  he  led  the  young  man  to- 
wards the  steps.  As  they  ascended,  he  put 
his  arm  round  his  waist;  but  even  this  sup- 
port was  insufficient,  for,  when  they  reached 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         J  7 

the  first  landing,  the  young  man's  limbs  gave 
way,  and  he  sank  down,  with  a  sigh,  upon 
the  stone  steps. 

"  Let  me  rest  a  moment,"  said  he,  in  a 
tremulous  whisper;  and,  covering  his  face 
with  his  hands,  with  his  head  resting  in  the 
snow,  he  sobbed  silently.  His  companion, 
waiting  for  the  shock  of  reaction  to  pass,  sat 
down  beside  him,  without  a  word.  But 
there  was  yearning  in  his  eyes ;  and  presently 
he  laid  his  soft,  white  hand  upon  his  head. 

The  prostrate  figure  thrilled. 

Just  then  a  shadow  fell  upon  them  from 
above;  and,  looking  up,  the  rescuer  saw  a 
policeman  leaning  over  the  parapet.  Rising 
quickly,  and  hurrying  up  to  the  officer,  the 
two  men  conversed  in  undertones  for  a  mo- 
ment, then  descended  the  steps.  A  few 
minutes  later  and  the  three  men  were  moving 
slowly  up  the  street,  the  sufferer  supported, 
in  part,  by  the  other  two.  A  basement  win- 
dow flew  up. 

b  2* 


1 8          Gold  tliat  did  not  Glitter. 

"Shure  and  you  are  not  goin'  to  run  the 
poor  man  in,  captain,  afther  all?" 

"  Yis ;  and  it  is  here  that  I  am  afther  run- 
nin'  him  in.  Have  ye  a  little  soup,  Maggie  ? 
Yis?  Then  open  the  door  quick;  for  its 
starved  intoirly  is  the  young  gintleman." 

A  rapid  fluttering  of  skirts  was  heard,  and 
in  a  trice  the  grilled  basement  door  flew 
open.  The  three  men  entered  the  front 
room,  and  our  young  friend  dropped  heavily 
into  a  chair.  Maggie  and  her  sister  (the 
cook)  flew  from  sitting-room  to  kitchen,  back 
and  forth,  like  wild  birds  in  a  cage.  Never 
was  table  more  quickly  served.  When  the 
young  man  saw  the  steam  rising  from  the 
hot  soup,  his  eyes  glistened,  his  lips  twitched ; 
and  when  the  officer  took  him  by  the  arm,  he 
rose  and  staggered  eagerly  towards  the  table. 
Seizing  the  spoon,  he  began  to  devour  the 
soup  with  a  haste  that  would  have  been  un- 
seemly had  it  not  been  pathetic ;  and  his 
hand  trembled  so  that  little  of  each  spoonful 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.          19 

reached  his  lips.  His  face  wore  the  fierce 
look  of  a  wild  beast  feeding. 

Nothing  lends  such  elegance  to  our  man- 
ners at  dinner  as  a  hearty  luncheon. 

The  soup  was  splashing  everywhere. 
Maggie,  with  deft  fingers,  pinned  a  napkin 
over  the  young  man's  breast. 

It  might  have  been  this  act  of  thoughtful- 
ness,  or  else  the  overwhelming  effect  of  the 
food;  but  the  young  man  bowed  his  head 
and  averted  his  face,  while  his  clinched  fists, 
pressing  heavily  upon  the  table,  shook  vio- 
lently. A  rain  of  silent  tears  poured  down 
his  cheeks.  The  four  spectators  turned 
away,  the  two  women  with  their  aprons  to 
their  eyes. 

Presently  the  rapid  click  of  the  spoon 
began  again.  The  policeman  lightly  touched 
one  of  the  broad  shoulders  of  the  man  who 
stood  looking  out  of  the  window : 

"  I'll  be  afther  hailin'  the  cab  for  ye  now  ?" 

"Thanks,  very  much,"   said  the  English- 


2O         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

man;  for  such  he  obviously  was,  notwith- 
standing his  dark  hair  and  eyes. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  sound  of  rattling 
wheels  suddenly  ceased  in  front  of  the  house. 
The  young  man  was  just  finishing  his  second 
supply  of  soup,  and,  as  he  scraped  the 
bottom  of  the  plate,  cast,  between  spoonfuls, 
wistful  glances  at  the  cook ;  but  the  English- 
man checked  her  with  a  motion  of  his  hand. 

Hearty  thanks  and  godspeeds  over,  the 
three  men  were  passing  through  the  door. 

"A  worrd  with  ye,  captain,"  said  Agnes, 
the  cook,  laying  two  fingers  upon  the  offi- 
cer's sleeve:  "what  say  ye  to  a  wee  drop 
o'  the  craythur  for  the  young  gintleman? 
Me  mother  gave  us  a  little  jug  when  we 
left  the  ould  country,  and  it's  there  in  the 
cupboard." 

"  Poteen  ?  County  Galway  ?  Bless  the 
darlin'  soul  of  ye,  it  wouldn't  harrm  the  gin- 
tleman,— no,  nor  a  baby.  Poteen  is  it  ? 
Bless  the  swate  name  of  it,  it  wouldn't  hurrt 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         2 1 

even  an  innocint  polaceman — of  a  snowy 
noight  loike  this !"  and  he  filliped  a  flake 
from  his  sleeve. 

"Och,  the  awful  chake  of  the  mon !" 
laughed  the  two  girls,  with  genuine  Irish 
delight  in  mother-wit. 

A  queer  little  jug  and  three  glasses  were 
now  produced.  But  the  jovial  Delany  in- 
sisted that  the  two  girls  should  do  honor  to 
the  ould  country, — just  a  wee  drop,  gurrls, — 
and  two  more  tumblers  were  brought  forth. 

"And  here's  to  County  Galway, — and  it's 
sorry  I  am  for  the  b'ys  ye  lift  behind  ye ;  it's 
wapin'  and  cryin'  they  are,  poor  lads !" 

The  Englishman  lingered  behind  when  the 
officer  and  the  young  man  passed  through 
the  door. 

"  You  will  be  sending  something  soon  to 
cheer  your  old  mother's  Christmas ;  please 
add  this  from  me,"  said  he,  thrusting  a  folded 
bank-note  into  the  hand  of  each  of  the  girls. 

"  Oh,  surr,  we  can't  accept  anything " 


22          Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  Certainly  not, — send  it  to  your  mother ;" 
and  he  closed  the  door  behind  him. 

The  two  girls,  in  spite  of  the  snow,  went 
out  into  the  area  to  see  the  party  off. 

"Which  way,  boss?"  asked  the  driver. 

"Cafe  Moretti." 

"Cafe  Moretti?" 

"Yes, — on  Fourteenth  Street,  opposite 
Tammany  Hall !" 

"  I'm  bound  ye  know  where  that  is,"  said 
the  policeman ;  "  loikely  ye  are  a  cousin  o' 
the  boss !" 

Cabby  winked,  and  the  girls  laughed. 

"And  mind  you,  lively,  lively,"  said  the 
Englishman,  dropping  half  a  dollar  into 
cabby's  palm  and  springing  into  the  hansom. 
The  driver  telegraphed  the  good  news  to 
his  horse,  and  he  turned  the  corner  almost 
at  a  gallop. 

The  girls  unfolded  their  notes,  and  started 
with  pleasure  when  they  read  the  figures. 


III. 

THE  rapid  jolting  of  the  hansom,  the  hot 
soup,  the  (not  so  very)  wee  "  drop  o'  the 
craythur,"  drove  despair  from  the  heart  of 
the  young  man,  and  hope  flowed  in  in  a 
mighty  tide.  Turning  to  the  man  who  had 
saved  him  from  what  he  now  shuddered  at 
as  a  frightful  crime,  a  grateful  mist  dimmed 
his  eyes. 

"  How  can  I  ever  thank  you  sufficiently!" 

His  companion  turned  upon  him  a  grave, 
kind  smile :  "  You  feel  better  ?" 

"  Better !  words  cannot  express  the  change. 
Every  cloud  seems  to  have  rolled  away. 
Those  people  passing  along  the  street  no 
longer  appear  to  me  as  enemies.  I  feel  it 
in  my  bones  that  I  have  not  been  saved  in 
vain.  Something  is  going  to  turn  up,  as 
Mr.  Micaw-ber  would  say." 

23 


2  4         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

The  Englishman  laid  his  hand  upon  the 
other's  knee.  "Something  has  turned  up. 
It  so  happens,"  continued  he,  observing 
the  puzzled  look  of  his  companion,  "  that  I 
have  enough  of  this  world's  goods  to 
keep  us  both  going  for  some  little  time. 
A  perfect  stranger,  no  claim,  you  say? 
Hardly  that;  for,  while  I  was  rescuing 
you,  you  were  saving  my  very  valuable 
life." 

"  I  hope  I  have  saved  it — for  good  ?" 

"That  depends  on  you." 

"On  me?" 

"  Yes.  If  your  life  turn  out  to  have  been 
worth  saving,  I  shall  deem  mine  worth  living. 
I  see  you  don't  understand.  Perhaps  I  may 
explain  after  we  have  dined.  By  the  way, 
how  is  your  appetite?" 

"  I  had  lost  the  feeling  of  hunger,  but  that 
soup  has  made  me  as  ravenous  as  a  wild 
beast.  I  believe  that  if  I  were  gnawing 
a  bone,"  added  he,  with  a  rather  ghastly 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         25 

smile,   "and  you   looked   at   me,    I    should 

growl !" 

"We'll  soon  stop  your  growling." 
"  How  far  have  we  to  go  ?    Ugh !" 
"  Here  we  are !" 


IV. 

THE  Cafe  Moretti  occupies  the  second 
and  third  stories  of  a  building  originally  a 
dwelling-house. 

"The  approaches  are  not  imposing,"  re- 
marked the  Englishman,  as  they  reached 
the  first  landing  and  came  in  full  view  of 
the  scullery  (once  a  bath-room),  and,  beyond 
that,  saw  the  busy  cooks  hanging  over  the 
wide  range,  from  which  savors  rich  and  rare 
floated  down  the  hall-way ;  "  but  never  mind ; 
*  the  proof  of  the  pudding,'  you  know !" 

When  the  two  friends  entered  the  dining- 
saloon,  they  found  every  table  occupied.  A 
waiter  suggested  the  room  up-stairs ;  but 
Tenterden  (the  Englishman),  seeing  Signer 
Moretti  in  the  kitchen,  went  there  to  consult 
him.  While  he  is  absent,  let  us  take  a  glance 
at  things.  As  for  our  fasting  young  friend, 
26 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         27 

he  has  eyes  only  for  the  tempting  dishes 
that  he  sees  before  him. 

In  the  ornamentation  of  the  room  chance 
has  reigned  supreme ;  and  the  result  is  such 
as  would  make  an  aesthetic  decorator  rage. 
The  mantel-piece  in  front  of  you  is  loaded 
with  heterogeneous  objects,  among  which  a 
hasty  glance  detects,  to  the  left,  a  carved 
white  elephant  tranquilly  waving  welcome 
with  his  wrinkled  trunk ;  while  to  the  right, 
a  big,  tawny,  terra-cotta  owl  fixes  upon  each 
new-comer  a  look  of  ferocious  and  eternal 
surprise.  For  when,  amid  all  the  feasting,  is 
his  turn  to  come?  Where  are  the  rats  and 
mice  and  such  small  deer  ? 

And  if  you  would  forget  you  are  in 
America,  lift  your  eyes  and  meet  those  of 
tempestuous  Salvini,  who  glares  down  upon 
you  from  the  wall  in  front.  Near  him  hang 
peacefully,  side  by  side,  Cavour  and  Mazzini, 
— and  rightly,  too,  for  both  loved  Italy  the 
Beautiful;  and  not  far  away,  the  shaggy, 


28         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

grizzled  beard  and  little  red  cap  of  Garibaldi. 
Near  this  trio  a  photograph  shows  you  the 
features  of  the  presiding  genius  of  the  place ; 
while  a  couple  of  prints  in  the  corner  set 
forth  the  comic  troubles  of  a  cook.  See, 
too,  near  the  ceiling,  the  bland  face  of  the 
incomparable  Mario ;  lower  down,  the  form 
of  stalwart  Campanini ;  and,  far  away  in  the 
corner  to  the  left,  two  counterfeit  present- 
ments of  Patti  the  Divine;  one  as  a  girl  of 
sixteen,  when,  as  a  rising  star,  she  twinkled 
just  above  the  horizon;  the  other  showing 
her  gazing  serenely  from  a  window,  world- 
renowned  and  more  or  less  married. 

And  what  a  contrast  on  the  other  side  of 
the  room !  There  two  rival  railways  spread, 
side  by  side,  their  alluring  maps !  Who 
hung  them  there  ?  Was  it  the  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association  ?  Would  they  remind 
us  that  all  of  us  must  some  day  bid  farewell 
to  New  York — and  to  Moretti?* 

*  Since   this   passage   was   written   Signer   Moretti   has 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         29 

But  the  contrasts  among  the  guests  are 
quite  as  strange.  Let  us  have  a  look  at 
them.  You  will  not  see  the  same  people 
here  to-morrow  night.  One  cannot  manage 
such  a  dinner  two  days  in  succession.  So,  at 
a  theatre ;  the  seats  are  occupied  every  even- 
ing, but  the  faces  change. 

Let  us  study  that  group  of  six  at  the  table 
by  the  window, — a  middle-aged  couple,  two 
stalwart  young  men,  and  a  pair  of  lovely  girls. 
The  married  couple  have  been  here  before. 
It  is  equally  obvious  that  the  two  merry 
maidens  are  making  their  first  incursion  into 
this  fascinating  land  of  Bohemia.  Their  faces 
are  flushed  with  pleasure,  their  eyes  sparkle 
with  a  mixture  of  curiosity  and  amusement, 
as  they  watch  the  various  groups  of  diners. 

"Oh,  look!"  Their  forks  fall,  jingling, 
upon  their  plates.  Their  soft  hands  are 

given  up  the  rooms  I  have  described,  and  taken  others, 
— where  I  shall  not  tell ;  for  whoso  deserves  one  of  his 
dinners  will  have  the  genius  to  discover  him. 
3* 


3°         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

clasped  in  breathless  delight;  for  the  ador- 
able tenor  who  has  made  their  hearts  go  pit- 
a-pat in  Lohengrin  stalks  into  the  room, 
with  a  pert  little  dog  at  his  heels.  But,  oh, 
horrors !  Does  he  eat  ?  No ;  he  has  merely 
lounged  in ;  and,  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  to 
the  waiter,  takes  his  stand  by  a  dark-eyed 
party  of  three  in  the  corner  next  the  kitchen, 
— two  gentlemen  and  a  lady.  A  waiter  will 
tell  you  who  they  are, — a  basso,  a  stage 
manager,  and  an  illustrious  daughter  of 
Terpsichore, — she  whose  twinkling,  fantastic 
toe  has  so  often  caused  to  drop,  in  rapt  ad- 
miration, the  under-jaws  of  the  bald-headed 
widowers  who  crowd  the  front  rows  of  the 
orchestra  stalls. 

Oh,  they  are  having  a  tremendous  lark, 
our  two  laughing  beauties  !  How  much  they 
will  have  to  tell  when  they  get  back  to  New 
Haven ;  for  all  the  way  from  there  have  they 
come,  with  two  Yale  men  to  do  the  agree- 
able, and  their  uncle  and  aunt  to  play  pro- 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         31 

priety.  It  is  no  novelty  to  the  jolly  New 
York  couple.  They  have  neither  chick  nor 
child,  and  have  grown  gray  poking  about  in 
all  sorts  of  odd  corners  in  quest  of  the 
dainty  and  the  toothsome.  No  small  ^Eneas 
plays  before  them  in  their  halls;  but  they 
can  at  least  eat. 

The  wind  is  tempered  to  the  shorn  lamb ! 

Behold,  too,  those  Statesmen  assuaging 
their  toil  over  a  fiasco  of  unaccustomed 
Chianti.  Their  thick  necks,  their  short  noses, 
their  long  upper  lips,  reveal  them  as  members 
of  our  dominant  race.  And  who  can  blame 
them  for  being  such  ?  Have  they  ever,  in 
the  long  ages,  ruled  anybody,  even  them- 
selves? Give  them  a  chance!  Let  them 
try  their  hand;  while  we  natives,  freed  from 
the  fatigues  of  self-government  (a  whole 
weary,  weary  century  of  it!)  pursue,  with 
single-hearted  zeal,  the  nimble,  the  fuga- 
cious, the  divine  dollar! 

A  mixed  company,  one  would  say.     Yes ; 


32         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

but  one  in  this ;  all  are  glad  to  be  there,  all 
glad  to  see  you  come;  for  does  not  every 
eye  greet  you  as  you  enter,  and  say,  Ah, 
here's  another  who  knows  what's  what? 

But  here  comes  Tenterden,  and  with  him 
Moretti,  with  a  napkin  under  his  arm ;  nod- 
ding, with  a  smile,  to  right,  to  left.  He  is 
rejoiced  to  see  them  all ;  even  that  barytone, 
who  lost  his  voice  six  months  ago ;  and 
that  ballerina  whose  sprained  ankle  prevents 
her  from  earning  a  living.  "Are  they  the 
less  hungry  for  that?"  asks  Stefano  Moretti. 
"Ha!  Let  them  eat!" 

Yes,  they  could  have  the  little  room,  all  to 
themselves.  A  party  of  four  had  engaged  it, 
but  had  sent  a  telegram  to  say  they  could 
not  come. 

Four  covers  had  been  laid,  but  there  was 
hardly  room  on  the  little  table  for  the  plates, 
so  generous  was  the  supply  of  hors  d'ceuvres 
that  cover  it.  Plump  olives,  dishes  of  Bo- 
logna sausage,  of  anchovies  fresh  from  their 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         33 

bath  of  olive  oil,  bunches  of  celery,  crisp  and 
snowy,  radishes,  firm,  brittle,  and  cold,  and  I 
know  not  what  besides.  Bread,  of  course, 
and  butter,  and,  in  the  middle  of  the  table, 
a  bouquet  in  honor  of  the  party  which  had 
been  expected. 

"  These  things  are  to  whet  your  appetite," 
remarked  Tenterden. 

The  sharp  click  of  a  fork  was  the  only 
response. 

Soup  next,  and,  after  soup,  fish,*  and  then 
— shall  we  burst  into  song,  O  muse  ? 

"  What  is  this  ?"  asked  our  young  friend, 
breaking  his  eloquent  silence. 

And  with  the  stem  of  his  goblet  he  was 
pointing  towards  an  engraving  of  Venice, 
bride  of  the  sea,  while  his  grateful  eyes 
rested  upon  Milano,  patria  of  Moretti ;  and 
the  dark  flood  of  the  rich  wine  of  Chianti 
pours  along  his  parched  throat.  Not  other- 

*  Comes  later, — but  no  matter. 


34         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

wise  sweeps  a  thunder-shower  adown  a  dusty 
canon. 

"  Spaghetti." 

"Spaghetti?     How  am  I  to  eat  it?" 

"  Any  way  you  can."  And  Tenderden,  rest- 
ing his  cheek  upon  his  hand,  watched  the 
efforts  of  his  vis-a-vis  with  a  smile.  "Ah, 
that's  right !"  he  added,  as  the  rear  ends  of  a 
long  mouthful  disappeared,  almost  with  the 
click  of  a  whip. 

The  young  man  laid  down  his  fork  and 
looked  at  Tenterden. 

"  How  do  you  like  it  ?"  asked  the 
latter. 

"By  Jove!"  and  he  finished  his  answer 
with  his  fork. 

Presently  he  was  helping  himself  to  a  fresh 
supply;  but  Tenterden  quickly  removed  the 
dish  out  of  his  reach,  and,  calling  a  waiter, 
handed  it  to  him :  "  Open  the  champagne, 
please." 

The    young    man's    eyes    sparkled    with 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.        35 

pleasure  as  he  looked  upon  the  goblet  of 
liquid  amber  bubbling  before  him. 

"  May  I  take  the  liberty,"  said  Tenterden, 
"  of  proposing  the  health  of  your  mother 
and  sister?" 

"  Ah,  thank  you,"  replied  the  young  man, 
with  effusion  (they  had  already  made  away 
with  a  quart  of  Chianti) ;  "  I  wish  you  knew 
them."  And  he  lifted  his  glass.  Then, 
coughing, — for  the  champagne-gas  choked 
him, — "  I  think — you  would — like — them." 

"  I  am  quite  sure  of  that,"  said  Tenterden, 
bowing.  "Ah,  here  come  the  entrees /" 

By  ordinary  mortals  entrees  are  served 
one  at  a  time.  But  Signer  Moretti  is  a  law 
unto  himself,  as  well  as  unto  those  who  love 
him.  Like  the  king,  he  can  do  no  wrong  in 
their  eyes.  And  he  sends  you  in  three  at 
once. 

It  is  not  worth  while  to  discuss  the  matter. 
As  well  condemn  the  grave-diggers'  scene 
in  Hamlet  to  a  Shakespeare  scholar ;  for,  to 


36         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

his  disciples,  Moretti  is  the  Bard  of  Avon,  the 
Beethoven,  the  Michael  Angelo  of  mine  hosts. 

Three  bountiful  dishes  at  once ! 

And,  as  they  are  placed  in  front  of  you, 
there  rise,  before  the  wondering  and  en- 
tranced nostril  ineffable  harmonies — vague — 
ravishing — Heliogabalic ! 

"Umgh!"  cried  Willis, — an  impromptu 
grace,  let  us  hope. 

"  These,"  explained  Tenterden,  "  are  Milano 
cutlets;  that,  fricasseed  chicken,  with  mush- 
rooms; these,  kidneys,  —  rognons  sautes. 
Which  will  you  begin  on  ?  Ah,  here  comes 
the  signor  himself!" 

Moretti  had  stopped  to  speak  to  two  gen- 
tlemen in  the  main  room. 

Of  these,  one  was  slender  and  of  dark 
complexion,  with  close-cut  black  hair  and 
beard,  who  wore  glasses  over  eyes  that  did 
not  seem  to  need  them, — the  clear,  steady, 
all-seeing  eyes  of  an  artist,  if  one  might 
guess  at  his  profession. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         37 

That's  half  the  fun  of  dining  at  Moretti's, 
— guessing  who  and  what  people  are. 

For  everybody,  there,  is  somebody.  Fools 
never  go — or  go  but  once. 

"  Then  how  does  he  make  a  living?" 

I  have  not  time  to  go  on  the  stand;  let 
us  move  forward  with  our  story,  rather. 

The  artist's  companion  is  his  antithesis. 
Jocund,  rubicund,  and  rolypoly, — as  he  sits 
there,  he  smiles, — not  with  his  eyes  alone, 
but  with  smooth,  full  knee,  with  haughty 
waistcoat,  as  well.  Even  across  his  broad 
back  you  shall  see  Merriment  time  and  again 
go  dimpling ! 

A  retired  banker,  without  a  doubt!  No 
sordid  cares  throttle  his  heart!  Let  us  re- 
joice with  him,  brother  men,  and  not  go 
envying  the  gods ! 

A  moment  before,  a  waiter  had  brought,  as 
a  special  compliment  to  this  serenely  joyous 
plutocrat  (but  not  because  he  was  rich),  an 
extra  dish. 

4 


3  8          Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"Aha!  chicken  livers  sautes /"  ejaculated 
the  artist ;  and,  raising  his  eyes  to  his  friend's 
face,  and  filling  his  glass  with  champagne 
(for  he,  not  the  financier,  seemed  to  be  stand- 
ing treat),  he  watched,  with  a  half-twinkle  in 
his  kindly  eye,  the  look  of  dim,  religious  awe 
that  shaded  his  companion's  visage,  when 
he  pressed,  between  palate  and  tongue,  a 
savory  lobe. 

"Ah,  come  sta,  maestro?"  cries  Moretti, 
laying  two  plump  fingers  on  the  comfortable 
shoulder  of  the  millionaire. 

"  Grazie,  signor,  sta  bene.    E  voi?" 

Oho,  an  Italian ! 

Perhaps.  But  one  swallow  does  not  make 
a  dinner,  as,  likely  enough,  the  Chinese  put  it. 

"The  maestro  thinks  they  are  not  bad," 
remarks  the  artist,  pointing  to  the  dish. 

"  Ha !"  abstemiously  chuckled  the  cordon 
bleu, — who,  so  lavish  with  his  three  entrees 
at  a  course,  paradoxically  allows  himself  but 
one  ha  to  a  laugh. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         39 

But  that  one  covers  the  ground, — meaning 
all  things, — annotated  by  the  accompanying 
smile,  that  tipped  you  a  wink  from  every 
dimple. 

"  Come  in,  signer,"  called  Tenterden,  "  and 
join  us  in  a  glass  of  champagne;  this  is  my 
friend,  Mr.  Willis,  of  Virginia." 

"  Oh,  Richmond !  Ha !  you  know  Ze- 
telle?"  [Richmond's  Delmonico.] 

"  Zetelle !     Do  you  know  him  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes, — from  Milano,  like  me." 

"But  Zetelle  is  a  Greek " 

"Does  he  say  that?     Ha!" 

There  is  a  kind  of  freemasonry  among  the 
diners  at  Moretti's.  Whatever  your  neighbor 
may  be,  he  is  not  an  ass  or  a  sham, — and  to 
know  that  is  half  a  letter  of  introduction. 
So,  when  the  chef  passed  down  the  room, 
benignly  smiling,  greeting  new-comers  with 
a  bright  glance,  nodding  to  this  group  or  to 
that, — exhaling  good  nature  from  every  pore  ; 
and  when  one  of  our  friends,  filling  his  glass, 


4°         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

said  "  Let  us  drink  his  health ;"  it  did  not 
seem  strange  that  the  two  gentlemen  at  the 
other  table  filled  theirs  also,  with  a  "  Yes, 
may  he  live  forever."  And,  amid  applause, 
four  glasses  went  up,  and  smiles  beamed  from 
table  to  table,  and  friendly  nods  were 
nodded ;  in  the  midst  of  which  the  maestro 
tried  to  quote  this  passage  of  Cicero  on  Ros- 
cius :  Propter  excellentem  artem  videbatur  om- 
nino  mori  non  debuisse, — but  (owing  to  en- 
thusiasm) could  not  quite  recall  the  words. 

And  after  the  ruffed  grouse,  came  Roque- 
fort cheese  and  oranges;  then  coffee;  and, 
with  the  coffee, — 

"  I  am  sorry  for  people  who  do  not 
smoke,"  quoth  Tenterden. 

"  I  can't  believe,"  said  Willis,  dropping 
back  into  his  chair,  with  a  contented  smile, 
"that  I  was  ever  hungry  in  my  life." 


V. 


"THAT  reminds  me;  as  we  were  driving 
down  in  the  cab,  I  begged  you  not  to  tell  me 
your  story  till  after  we  had  dined.  It  is 
trying  both  to  tell  and  to  hear  sad  things  on 
an  empty  stomach.  Now  we  are  ready  for 
the  fray,"  continued  he,  smiling;  "but,  be- 
fore you  begin,  I  will  say  one  word " 

One  word  isn't  very  much  (always  except- 
ing the  Aristophanic  for  hash),  but  Tenterden 
seemed  to  have  some  difficulty  in  finding  the 
one  he  sought.  After  shifting  his  cigar  from 
the  east  to  the  west  corner  of  his  mouth  once 
or  twice,  however,  he  snatched  it  suddenly 
from  under  his  dark  moustache,  and  rather 
blurted  out, — 

"  Of  course  I  know  that  you  are  deucedly 
hard  up,  and  all  that."  Then,  resting  his 
head  upon  his  hand,  he  was  silent  for  a  little 
4*  41 


42         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

while.  Presently,  sitting  bolt  upright,  and 
his  face  cleared  of  the  wrinkles  of  perplexity, 
he  said,  in  a  quick,  business-like  way, — 

"Well,  we  will  settle  that  matter,  now. 
Do  you  owe  any  little  debts?" 

"  I  owe  my  landlady  two  weeks'  board. 
But,"  added  Willis,  a  little  eagerly,  "  the  con- 
tents of  my  trunk  would  have  saved  her  from 
loss." 

Tenterden  gave  him  a  quick  look,  rose, 
pulling  at  his  moustache,  made  a  turn  or 
two  in  the  corner  of  the  room,  snapped  his 
lowered  head  up  and  down  with  something 
that  had  the  sound  of  muttered  oaths ;  then, 
wheeling  suddenly  upon  Willis,  with  a  fierce 
look,  as  though  he  blamed  him  for  it: 

"This  is  a  marvellous  good  world,  Mr. 
Willis !  How  proud  I  should  be  if  I  had 
made  it !"  And,  seizing  a  match,  he  relit  his 
cigar  with  savage  puffs. 

"  Two  weeks'  board  ?"  resumed  he,  sitting 
down.  "Anything  more?" 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         43 

"That  is  all — that  is  to  say — yes,  two 
weeks'  board." 

" '  That  is  to  say  ?'  Go  on.  I  must  know 
all." 

A  deep  flush  overspread  Willis's  face. 

"Go  on!" 

"  My  overcoat  is  in  pawn." 

"And  this  is  December!" 

Tenterden  shut  his  eyes,  twisted  his  head 
aside,  and  seemed  to  be  swearing,  inaudibly, 
at  something  or  somebody. 

"  Your  overcoat.     Anything  else  ?" 

The  color  flashed  out  of  Willis's  face : 
"  Yes,  a  gold  watch, — old  and  not  very  valu- 
able, I  dare  say, — only " 

"  Only  ?" 

"  The  fact  is,  it  was — ray — father's  watch," 
said  Willis,  pale  and  with  downcast  eyes. 
"That  is  all." 

"  And  the  '  demned  total'  of  all  your  in- 
debtedness ?" 

Willis  added  up  the  items. 


44         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  Fifty-seven  dollars,"  repeated  Tenterden. 
"  Well,  I  shall  lend  you  that  amount."  And, 
going  down  into  his  pockets,  he  drew  out  a 
wallet  and  began  to  count  out  the  notes. 
"There,  I  lend  you  an  even  hundred, — easier 
to  remember,  you  know.  I  have  just  one 
hundred  left  in  my  purse.  By  the  way,  you 
may  wonder  why  I  carried  such  a  sum  with 
me  —  under  —  the  circumstances.  Vanity  ! 
nothing  but  vanity !  I  shrank  from  the  an- 
nouncements in  the  papers :  '  A  toothpick 
and  eleven  cents  in  cash  was  all  that  was 
found  in  the  pockets  of  the  deceased.'  All 
of  us  worship  money ;  even  I,  you  see,  who 
profess  to  despise  it.  By  the  way,  it  would 
be  putting  it  rather  big  to  say  that  I  am 
lending  you  a  hundred  dollars.  You  might 
claim  to  be  making  me  a  present  of  one 
hundred,  since  but  for  you,  the  entire  two 
hundred " 

"  I  assure  you  that  even  to  accept  as  a 
loan " 


Gold,  that  did  not  Glitter.         45 

"  Stop,"  said  Tenterden,  holding  up  his 
hand.  "  The  very  expression  of  your  coun- 
tenance convinces  me  that  you  are  on  the 
eve  of  saying  something  silly.  You  must 
know,"  added  he,  tapping  his  forehead,  "  I 
am  a  mind-reader;  and  I  can  distinctly  see 
the  most  absurd  words  bubbling  up  from 
your  brain !  Certainly, — no  objection  to 
shaking  hands  if  you  wish  it " 

"  Buona  sera,  Signer  Moretti!" 

"Ah,  buona  sera,  maestro, — a  rividerla! 
Ha  r 

The  rosy-nosy  maestro  was  shaking 
hands  with  the  genial  host.  Everybody 
looked  round, — the  statesmen,  the  ballerina, 
the  Yale  men,  and  their  happy  enslavers, — 
wondering  what  illustrious  Italian  composer, 
or  what  not,  they  had  just  had  the  honor  of 
dining  with.  Surely  it  could  not  be  Verdi ! 
The  tenore  robusto,  at  any  rate,  knew  better 
than  that.  Could  Crispi  be  studying  Ameri- 
can institutions  in  muphti? 


4-6         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  Good-evening,  gentlemen,"  say  the  artist 
and  the  maestro,  as  they  pass  the  door  of 
the  little  room  with  bows  and  bland  smiles. 

"  They  speak  excellent  American !"  quoth 
Tenterden.  "  Well,  suppose  we  go,  too.  By 
the  way,  didn't  you  say  that  you  had  no 
overcoat  ?  I  believe  I  have  an  extra  one  at 
my  rooms ;  suppose  you  call  by  and  get  into 
it, — provided,  of  course,  you  won't  mind  the 
color:  it  is  nearly  white,  but  you  can  get 
your  own  from  your  '  uncle'  to-morrow." 

It  was  but  a  short  walk  to  Tenterden's 
"den,"  as  he  called  it.  Willis  had  never 
seen  such  rooms.  And  as  comfort  after 
comfort  revealed  itself,  deeper  and  deeper 
grew  his  wonder  that  a  man  so  placed  should 
have  found  life  unlivable. 

Our  own  troubles,  alone,  are  not  to  be 
borne.  The  poignancy,  even  of  toothache, 
is  dimmed,  where  it  racks  an  alien  jaw! 


VI. 

I  THINK  we  shall  have  to  pardon  Mrs. 
Smithers.  She  had  done  her  very  best,  and 
she  had  come,  after  a  valiant  battle,  to  the 
conclusion  that  if  she  did  any  better,  she 
should  surely  burst. 

Mrs.  S.  was  seated  in  her  parlor  with  Miss 
Wilkins,  a  maiden  whom  she  had  numbered 
among  her  boarders  for  ten  or  twelve  years, 
and  who  had,  during  that  period,  reluctantly 
grown  older  by  a  couple  of  years  or  so. 
Her  thin,  narrow  visage  was  hardly  more 
than  a  frame  for  her  big  eyes, — eyes  by 
which  Miss  Wilkins  has  set  uncommon 
store  ever  since  she  received  a  certain  note 
(now  bethumbed  and  brown) — a  certain  little 
note  (from  a  male)  in  which  they — those 
eyes — were  boldly  classed  among  liquid 
orbs.  For  the  rest,  there  was  hardly  enough 

47 


4-8         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

of  Miss  W.  to  cover  up  her  nerves,  which  a 
sudden  mouse,  even,  was  capable  of  totally 
upsetting. 

The  two  women  were  alone. 

A  deep  stillness  reigned  throughout  the 
house  from  garret  to  cellar,  broken  only  by 
the  ticking  of  the  clock.  The  deep,  fresh 
snow  muffled  the  sound  of  all  footsteps  of 
passers-by. 

The  clock  struck  twelve ! 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Smithers,  what  is  the 
matter  ?  I  never  heard  such  a  sigh, — that  is, 
never  since  I — but  no  matter;  let  that  pass." 

The  vast  blue-veined  lids  slowly  went 
down,  veiling  the  light  of  the  liquid  orbs, 
as,  with  her  transparent  hand,  she  brushed 
aside  the  thronging  memories.  (While  the 
note  had  been  growing  brown,  the  villain 
had  married  twice,  and  was  the  father  of 
nine  children.) 

"For  two  or  three  days,"  continued  she, 
"you  are  no  longer  your  cheerful  self." 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         49 

"Cheerful  self!    Ugh!" 

Mrs.  Smithers  dropped  back  into  her  chair 
and  closed  her  eyes;  then  suddenly  sat  up 
again,  at  the  same  time  darting  her  hand  into 
her  pocket. 

Something  crackled  there! 

"  Mrs.  Smithers,  what  can  be  the  matter  ?" 

"  I  feel  that  if  I  don't  I  shall  burst ;  that's 
all !" 

"  Don't  what  ?" 

.    "Read     that,    Miss    Wilkins.       Read     it 
aloud!" 

Miss  Wilkins,  with  eager,  trembling  fin- 
gers, withdrew  the  letter  from  the  envelope, 
finding  time  to  resolve,  meanwhile,  to  advise 
the  widow  to  accept  the  offer  (it  would  be 
handy  to  have  somebody  to  carve, — but 
who  could  it  be?),  whether  or  not  the  aspi- 
rant ranked  her  eyes  among  liquid  orbs. 
(Preposterous  !  More  like  beads  !) 

"  Mrs.  Smithers,  it  is  marked  '  confiden- 
tial.'" 

c       d  $ 


5°         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"Never  mind:  read  it,"  sighed  Mrs.  S., 
without  opening  her  eyes. 

"  NEW  YORK,  Tuesday. 

"  DEAR  MRS.  SMITHERS  : 

"  I  owe  you,  this  morning,  two  weeks' 
board.  As  I  can  see  no  reasonable  prospect 
of  paying  you  even  this  amount,  I  am  re- 
solved it  shall  not  become  greater.  I  leave 
your  house,  determined  not  to  return  till  I 
have  found  employment " 

"  Why,  this  is  from  Mr.  Willis,"  said  Miss 
Wilkins,  glancing  at  the  signature. 

"  Did  you  ever  know  a  nicer,  more  lovable 
young  man,  Miss  Wilkins  ?" 

"  But,  my  dear  Mrs.  Smithers,  he  is  a  mere 
boy!" 

"What  has  that  to  do  with  it?" 

Miss  Wilkins  was  shocked.  Like  many 
women  who  have  elected  to  pass  their  lives 
without  partners,  her  mind  was  in  a  state  of 
chronic  exclamation  over  the  matches  made 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         5 J 

by  her  acquaintances.  And  now,  here  was 
Mrs.  Smithers  !  Well,  well,  well ! 

"  Doesn't  that  make  the  case  all  the 
sadder?"  added  that  lady. 

"  Oh !"  ejaculated  Miss  Wilkins,  catching 
her  breath ;  shying,  like  the  young  colt  that 
she  was,  at  the  thought  that  she  had  so 
nearly  uttered.  She  had  been  shocked ;  she 
was  now  startled,  and  read  on,  with  unsteady 
voice : 

"  I  take  this  step  with  the  less  shame,  as 
my  trunk,  with  its  contents  (I  have  left  it 
unlocked),  will  more  than  cover  my  indebted- 
ness. If  I  remain  absent  for  ten  days,  you 
may  take  it  for  granted  that  I  have  been 
unable  to  find  work  in  the  city,  and  have 
gone  elsewhere;  and  I  hereby  authorize 
you " 

"'Elsewhere,'  Miss  Wilkins, — '  I  have  gone 
elsewhere  f  " 

"Oh,  oh,  oh!"  half-shrieked  Miss  W., 
covering  her  face  with  her  hands.  How 


52         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

vividly  she  now  recalled  that  the  handsome 
young  fellow  had  passed  her  the  oatmeal  in 
a  very  meaning  way,  more  than  once ! 

"  Observe,  Miss  Wilkins,  he  does  not  say 
San  Francisco — Chicago — the  West :  he  says 
elsewhere, — elsewhere,  Miss  Wilkins !" 

"  Oo-ee-ee-ee !" 

"  I  don't  wonder  that  that  word  makes 
you  shiver,  Miss  Wilkins."  And  Mrs. 
Smithers  rose,  and  began  to  stir  the  fire 
nervously. 

Miss  W.  felt  lonely  in  her  corner,  and 
upset  a  heavy  chair  as  she  hastened  to  join 
her. 

"  Oh,  how  you  frightened  me !"  cried  Mrs. 
Smithers,  letting  fall  the  poker  with  a  loud 
crash. 

"  Oh !"  shivered,  in  reply,  the  pale  lips  of 
Miss  Wilkins,  as  she  clasped,  with  icy  grip, 
the  well-nourished  arm  of  her  friend. 

"  Do  you  believe  in  dreams,  Miss  Wil- 
kins ?" 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         53 

"  Dreams,  Mrs.  Smithers !"  chattered  Miss 
Wilkins,  all  eyes. 

"  Last  night  I  dreamt — I  dreamt  I  saw 
him " 

"We  shall  never  see  him  more!" 

"  Oh,  don't  say  that ! — saw  him  stiff  and 
cold,  his  hair " 

"  His  hair — his  beautiful  brown  hair !     Oh, 
me,  me,  me !" 
•  "  Yes,  all  wet — and — and  matted,  and " 

"  WHAT'S  THAT  ! ! !" 

The  two  women  stood,  pale  and  expectant, 
scarcely  breathing.  The  jingle  of  keys  was 
distinctly  heard  at  the  front  door. 

"Aren't  all  the  boarders  in?" 

"  All  except — except — him  /" 

The  jingling  continued. 

"  Ugh !" 

The  obstinacy  of  front-door  locks  generally 
explains  itself  in  accordance  with  what  we 
know  or  believe  of  him  who  holds  the  key. 

"  Miss  Wilkins,  if  my  dream  were  true — 
5* 


54         Gold  tJiat  did  not  Glitter. 

could — could — can  they — you  know-ow-ow — 
use  latch-ke-ke-keys  ?" 

"Oh,  Lord,  Lord,  Lord!" 

Tic,  tac,  tic, — jingle,  jingle! 

"  And  to  think  that  we  spent  this  evening, 
of  all  others,  at  that  wicked,  wicked  theatre !" 
ejaculated  Mrs.  Smithers. 

"Tic,  tac,  tic! 

Miss  Wilkins  had  been  brought  up  at  the 
knee  of  a  pious  mother.  Seeking,  therefore, 
to  conjure  away  the  dread  vision  of  the 
forest  of  many-twinkling,  flesh-colored  silk 
tights  evoked  before  her  guilty  soul  by  the 
repentant  cry  of  her  friend :  "  Now  I  lay  me 
down  to  sleep"  she  began,  her  hands  clasped, 
her  liquid  orbs  upturned  and  glassy. 

These  words,  so  full  of  childlike  faith, 
seemed  to  suggest  a  line  of  defence  to  Mrs. 
Smithers.  At  any  rate,  she  made  a  spring  at 
the  centre-table,  and,  seizing  her  family  Bible, 
clasped  it,  as  a  bulwark,  against  her  vast  and 
motherly  bosom.  So  she  thought,  at  least; 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         55 

but  the  truth  of  history  compels  me  to  admit 
that  the  buckler  she  bore  was,  in  point  of 
fact,  none  other  than  Webster's  "  great  una- 
bridged." Seeking  what  mankind  loves  to 
call  "  The  Good  Book,"  she  got,  in  her  haste, 
what  is  known  to  the  advertising  column  as 
"The  Best."  Let  it  be  pardoned  unto  her. 
For,  as  every  fibre  of  her  tingled  with  terror, 
and  as  she  carried  about  her  person  an  un- 
usual number  of  fibres 

And  Miss  Wilkins,  eager  to  be  found  stand- 
ing upon  the  same  platform  with  her  friend, 
made  a  wild,  slim  dive  for  the  prayer-book. 
In  her  swift  swoop,  however,  she,  too,  missed 
her  quarry.  There  she  stands,  her  dazed 
eyes  fixed  upon  a  copy  of  Browning,  opened 
upside-down, — a  circumstance  of  no  moment, 
by  the  way,  in  the  case  of  that  author 

Click ! 

Was  not  that  the  lock?  Then  why  does 
not  the  door  open?  It  is  open,  else  why 
that  icy  draught? 


5^         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

Not  a  sound!  Yes,  another  faintest  of 
clicks!  Then  a  stealthy  tread! 

Do  THEY  walk  on  tiptoe? 

A  form  appears  in  the  parlor  door-way, — a 
form  clad  in  an  ulster  almost  white  in  itself, 
and  now  covered  with  snow ;  the  lofty,  raised 
collar  of  which  overtopped  the  ears,  while 
the  skirts  reached  the  ankles. 

A  beaming,  rosy  face,  could  one  have  seen 
it,  and  eyes  glad  with  the  gladness  of  ex- 
pected welcome.  But,  to  a  prepared  imagi- 
nation, a  spectre  most  gruesome ! 

The  joyous  greeting  that  was  rising  to 
young  Willis's  lips  died  unuttered.  What 
could  be  the  meaning  of  the  amazing  tableau 
that  stood  before  him?  His  usually  jolly 
landlady  hugging  the  Great  Unabridged  to 
her  rival  bosom,  and,  with  closed  eyes, 
mouthing,  with  trembling  lips,  inaudible 
prayers  !  Miss  Wilkins  with  bowed  head,  her 
liquid  orbs,  now  dry  with  terror,  bent  upon 
the  reversed  pages  of  the  Inscrutable  One. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         57 

Our  young  friend  had  walked  briskly,  on 
leaving  Tenterden's  rooms,  warmed  without 
by  his  vast  ulster,  warmed  within  by  gratitude 
and  punch.  Ah,  there  were  lights  in  the 
parlor ;  he  could  pay  his  bill  before  he  slept ! 

And  now ! 

The  fresh-hearted  young  fellow  was 
shocked.  His  heart  sank  within  him. 
Even  hjs  voice  sank,  as  he  asked,  in  a 
trembling,  guttural  basso  profondo : 

"  Ladies,  don't  you  know  me  ?" 

Down  fluttered  Browning,  down  thundered 
the  Great  Unabridged ;  up  rose  two  piercing 
shrieks ! 

And  a  Texan,  who  occupied  a  bed  in  the 
back  parlor,  thrust  his  hand  beneath  the 
pillow  and  waited,  smiling  grimly.  Wasn't 
that  a  woman's  cry  that  awoke  him  !  No  ? 
I  suppose  I  must  have  been  dreaming.  Dash 
it,  there  are  no  burglars  in  New  York !  And 
he  nestled  down  again  into  his  pillow,  with 
a  sigh. 


VII. 

"AND  now,"  said  Tenterden,  as  they  lit 
their  cigars  after  a  late  breakfast,  "  let's  have 
your  story.  I  do  not  ask  from  mere  idle 
curiosity.  It  may  turn  out  that,  after  hearing 
it,  I  shall  be  able  to  think  of  some  way  of 
aiding  you  without  injuring  myself." 

"  It  will  not  take  me  long  to  tell  it.  At 
the  close  of  the  War  of  Secession,  my  father, 
though,  like  his  neighbors,  much  crippled  in 
his  finances,  still  owned — at  least  he  thought 
he  did — a  farm  of  twelve  hundred  acres  of 
good  land.  But  one  fine  day,  a  paper  which 
he  had  signed  as  surety,  many  years  before, 
'  merely  as  a  matter  of  form,'  and  which  he 
had  almost  forgotten,  rose  up  and  confronted 
him.  This  he  met  with  a  mortgage,  and  for 
five  years  struggled  on,  paying  the  interest 
with  extreme  difficulty.  He  succumbed  at 
58 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         59 

last,  under  the  load,  and  died  a  broken- 
spirited  man,  leaving  a  widow  and  two  chil- 
dren. 

"  My  mother's  courage  rose  with  the  emer- 
gency, and,  with  my  assistance,  though  I 
was  but  a  boy,  we  managed  as  well,  if  not 
better  than  during  my  father's  lifetime.  The 
mortgagee,  too,  being  a  friend  of  the  family, 
was  very  lenient.  But  on  his  death,  last 
year,  his  executors  found  that,  contrary  to 
expectations,  his  estate,  too,  was  dreadfully 
involved.  Nothing  was  left  them  but  pro- 
ceedings looking  to  foreclosure. 

"  It  was  immediately  decided,  in  a  council 
of  war,  that  I  should  go  straight  to  New 
York  and  seek  employment,  so  that,  when 
the  crash  carne,  I  might  be  some  sort  of 
staff  on  which  the  family  could  lean.  My 
sister,  too,  would  have  sought  a  place  as 
governess,  but  my  mother  thought  herself 
too  old  to  fight  the  battle  of  life  alone.  So 
I  was  despatched  to  this  great  city,  to  make 


60         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

my  way  in  the  world,  with  almost  the  whole 
of  my  mother's  little  hoard  in  my  pocket; 
and  it  was  almost  nothing. 

"  I  came  with  a  light  heart,  and  with 
scarcely  a  misgiving ;  for  a  number  of  our 
acquaintances  had  removed  to  New  York, 
after  the  war,  and  several  of  them  had 
greatly  prospered;  and,  as  more  than  one 
of  them  had  always  professed  to  be  warm 
friends  of  our  family,  I  had  no  doubt  that 
some  one  among  them  would  put  me  in  the 
way  of  finding  something  to  do." 

"  My  dear  boy,"  laughed  Tenterden,  "  you 
are  truly  delicious !" 

"  I  was  to  be  rudely  awakened  from  my 
dream !" 

Covering  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  he  gave 
a  little  shiver.  Presently  he  resumed : 

"  I  would  give  anything  in  reason  could  I 
but  erase  from  my  mind  the  recollection  of 
that  frightful  first  week  of  mine  in  New  York. 
Let  me  spare  you — and  myself — its  details. ' 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         61 

"  One  and  all  of  these  old  friends  of  my 
people  received  me  with  bland  smiles, — and 
— bowed  me  out  of  their  offices  with  courte- 
ous regrets  and  kind  suggestions.  How  did 
the  great  West  strike  me  ?  For,  it  would  ap- 
pear, there  was  no  room  for  another  man  in 
New  York." 

"A  well-established  emigre  looks  upon 
every  new-comer  as  an  impertinent  inter- 
loper," remarked  Tenterden,  "who  cheapens 
his  success  by  assuming  that  it  is  possible 
for  another." 

"  Yes,  I  know  that  now.  But  it  was  the 
last  feather  that  broke  the  camel's  back. 
The  gentleman  in  whom  I  felt  the  greatest 
confidence  I  had  not  been  able  to  catch  at 
his  office,  as  he  came  there  rather  irregularly, 
having  practically  retired  from  business.  So 
I  called  at  his  residence.  He  had  just  fin- 
ished his  dinner,  and  received  me  in  his 
dining-room,  where  he  was  smoking  a  thirty- 
cent  cigar,  with  a  decanter  of  sherry  at  his 


62         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

elbow.  He  was  cordiality — hospitality,  itself. 
As  I  sipped  his  wine  and  puffed  away  at  the 
delicious  Havana,  and  looked  up  into  his  soft, 
brown  eyes  and  handsome,  benignant  face,  I 
felt  sure  that  here  was  a  man  who  had  the 
leisure  as  well  as  the  ability  and  the  will  to 
find  a  place  for  me. 

"  He  was  the  worst  of  the  lot !  He  would 
not  even  listen  to  what  I  had  to  say ;  inter- 
rupting me,  at  one  time  by  filling  my  glass 
with  hospitable  zeal,  at  another  by  urging 
upon  me  a  fresh  cigar, — pointing  out,  with 
his  soft,  fat,  Sybaritic  forefinger,  the  very  best 
one  in  the  box.  Do  you  know,  Tenterden, 
as  I  descended  that  man's  steps,  that  night, 
and  reached  the  street, — I  could  not  help  it, 
— I  just  sobbed  aloud!" 

Tenterden  rose  from  the  table  and  walked 
to  and  fro,  once  or  twice,  grimly  swearing  to 
himself  in  a  devout  undertone ;  then,  coming 
to  a  halt  in  front  of  Willis  :  "  Your  benig- 
nant, cordial  friend,  with  the  flinty  heart,  was 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         63 

an  enigma  to  you,  but  I  know  his  sort  per- 
fectly. They  have  reduced  life  to  a  science. 
They  live  by  strictest  rule.  They  are  guided 
by  one  principle  under  all  circumstances. 
And  that  principle  is,  never  to  give  so  much 
as  one  thought  to  the  sorrows  of  their  fel- 
low-men. And,  of  all  men,  they  alone  are 
wise " 

Willis  looked  up. 

"  Of  all  men,  they  alone  are  happy,  DAMN 
'EM  !"  and  his  hand  came  thundering  down 
upon  the  table.  "  And  people  are  willing  to 
live  in  such  a  world !" 

"But  there  are  some  good  people?"  sug- 
gested Willis. 

"  Of  course, — a  pinch  of  salt,  here  and 
there,  that  saves  humanity  from  general 
putrefaction.  But  don't  listen  to  me:  go 
on!" 

"  I  think,"  resumed  Willis,  "  that  there  was 
not  one  of  the  others  but  was  annoyed, 
slightly,  at  least,  at  dismissing  me  without  an 


64         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

effort  to  help  me;  but  I  believe  that  this 
bland  gentleman  had  forgotten  me  before  I 
turned  the  corner." 

"  Not  the  least  doubt  of  it,  and  was  therein 
wiser  and  happier  than  the  others.  Half- 
heartedness — in  selfishness  as  in  all  things — 
is  a  mistake." 

"  After  that,  as  my  friends  had  abandoned 
me,  I  abandoned  my  friends.  I  threw  myself 
upon  the  great  public.  I  offered  my  services 
to  firm  after  firm ;  but,  as  I  was  too  bitter  to 
give  references,  and  acknowledged  my  in- 
experience, it  might  have  been  thought  that  I 
should  never  have  gotten  a  place.  But  my 
very  frankness  actually  procured  me  a  situa- 
tion, after  a  week's  weary  trudging  up  and 
down  Broadway.  But  I  brought  my  firm  bad 
luck :  they  failed  within  a  month. 

"  My  second  situation  was  as  a  street-car 
conductor.  That  I  held  only  three  days ! 
You  will  blame  me  when  I  tell  you  how  I 
lost  it ;  but  when  I  think  of  the  highly  dra- 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         65 

matic  close  of  my  career  in  that  direction,  for 
the  life  of  me " 

Thereupon,  full  of  the  joyous  courage  that 
new  hopes  give,  Willis  threw  back  his  head ; 
and  his  ribs,  sustained  now  by  a  hearty  and 
luxurious  breakfast,  began  to  shake  with  con- 
tagious vigor. 

Tenterden's  eyes  twinkled  in  anticipation : 
"  How  was  it  ?  Tell  me.  I  promise  not  to  be 
too  severe." 

"  Well,  on  the  third  day  of  my  new  em- 
ployment,-who  should  enter  my  car  but  my 
friend  who  had  overwhelmed  me  with  sherry 
and  cigars — and  despair.  A  few  blocks 

lower  down,  Mr.  ,  one  of  New  York's 

best-known  millionaires,  had  entered  my  car. 
The  driver  had  pointed  him  out  to  me, 
when  my  gentleman — and  he  was  a  gentle- 
man  " 

"  Oh,  there  is  no  incompatibility  between 
the  character  of  a  gentleman  and  that  of  a 

pig, — begging  the  pig's  pardon." 

e  6* 


66         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"As  soon  as  he  espied  the  millionaire,  he 
saluted  him  as  though  he  were  the  most 
prized  of  friends,  but  getting  a  cool  nod  in 
return.  As  I  watched  him  through  the  glass 
door,  the  servile  adulation  with  which  he 
hung  upon  the  few  curt  words  of  the  money- 
king  filled  me  with  shame  and  anger.  And 
once,  when  the  latter  had  dropped  his  glasses, 
and  my  man  had  stooped  and  handed  them 
to  him,  with  eager  haste,  the  plutocrat  almost 
sneered ;  for  he  could  see  that  all  this  cring- 
ing was  in  honor  of  his  money-bags.  I  dare 
say  my  friend  would  have  been  amazed, 
could  he  have  known  what  were  my  feelings 
as  I  went  forward  to  take  his  fare.  I  was 
ashamed  to  number  him  among  my  acquaint- 
ances. 

"  However,  when  he  looked  up :  '  How  are 
you  ?'  said  I.  '  I  beg  your  pardon,'  said  he, 
giving  me  a  steady,  stony  stare.  The  million- 
aire looked  from  the  one  to  the  other  of  us, 
in  surprise.  My  man  felt  it  and  colored. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         67 

'  Don't  you  know  me  ?'  said  I.  I  was  no 
longer  angry;  but,  very  likely,  my  amused 
smile  was  not  pleasant  to  him.  '  I  have 
not  that  honor,'  said  he.  'What,'  I  urged, 
'  you  don't  remember  Bob  Willis  ?  nor  "  The 
Cedars  ?"  Can't  you  recall  the  saddles  of 
mutton,  there,  you  used  to  think  so  fine?' 

"  Everybody  in  the  car  was  listening,  with 
open  mouth.  The  magnate's  eyes,  peering 
intently  over  their  glasses,  seemed  to  burn 
the  cheek  of  my  friend  of  short  memory.  I 
must  say  he  showed  pluck  in  the  way  he 
looked  me  straight  in  the  eyes.  '  I  can't  say 
that  I  do,'  said  he." 

"The  cad!"  broke  in  Tenterden. 

"  Here  the  millionaire  put  in  his  little  oar : 
'  You  seem  to  be  under  a  singular  hallucina- 
tion, conductor?' 

"  I  saw,  at  a  glance,  as  our  eyes  met,  that 
he  was  on  my  side.  The  fact  is,  he  winked 
with  his  off  eye. 

"'Yes,'  said   I,  'and  the  hallucination  is 


68         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

somewhat  strengthened  by  the  fact  that  I 
spent  the  evening  with  the  gentleman,  re- 
cently. I  can  particularly  recommend  his 
cigars.' 

"  The  plutocrat's  eyes  danced  with  merri- 
ment. The  whole  car  tittered;  for  in  New 
York,  when  one  of  our  gods  smiles,  all  of 
us  common  mortals  laugh. 

"  Backed  by  so  many  millions,  I  was  in 
exultant  mood.  I  held  out  my  hand.  '  I 
have  paid  my  fare,'  snapped  my  man,  fiercely. 
'  But  won't  you  shake  hands  ?' 

"The  well-lined  ribs  of  the  great  man 
gently  shook.  The  car  guffawed.  My  vic- 
tim wheeled  aside  with  a  snort,  giving  an 
anxious  glance  at  the  half-grinning  face  of 
his  adored  companion.  Then  I — it  was 
dreadful,  of  course — it  suddenly  struck  me 
as  the  very  neatest  thing  possible,  both  to 
do  and  to  say " 

"What  was  that?" 

"'You  won't  give  me  your  hand,'  said  I; 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         69 

'  but  surely  you  won't  mind  lending  me  your 
nose!'" 

"What!"  shouted  Tenterden.     "Go  on!" 

"  With  that  I  leaned  over  and  took  his 
Burgundy-painted,  prosperous  proboscis  be- 
tween my  thumb  and  forefinger " 

"  Not  really !  IMMENSE  !"  roared  Tenterden. 

"I  was  almost  laughing;  I  didn't  wring 
it,  exactly.  You  know  how  a  dentist,  with 
his  forceps  upon  a  molar,  gives  a  quiver  or 
so  to  his  wrist — h'm? — just  to  let  you  know 
he  is  there?" 

"  DELICIOUS,  by  Jove !  Here,  waiter,  two 
more  pousse-cafes !"  shouted  Tenterden,  be- 
side himself.  "  What  next  ?" 

"  The  next  thing  in  order  would  have  been 
a  fight;  but  just  as  my  friend  was  rising, 
with  the  roar  of  a  mad  bull,  an  able-bodied 
young  man  arose  and  stood  between  us,  who, 
laying  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder,  and  ex- 
hibiting a  shield,  remarked,  in  a  voice  of 
authority,  '  You  are  my  prisoner  !' " 


7°         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"Were  you  taken  to  prison?" 

"  Yes,  but  it  was  not  a  very  serious  affair ; 
for  the  officer  laughed  all  the  way  down, 
insisted  on  standing  treat,  and,  somehow, 
had  me  bailed  out  within  an  hour.  He 
would  not  tell  me  who  went  on  my  bond. 
But,  as  I  saw  the  millionaire  hand  him  his 
card,  I  had  my  suspicions. 

"  My  examination,  next  morning,  was 
short  and  hilarious.  My  friend  with  the 
short  memory  did  not  put  in  an  appearance ; 
and  the  detective  gave  such  an  account  of 
the  '  assault'  that  Judge  McGuffy  asked  him, 
with  a  wink  trembling  about  the  corner  of 
his  eye,  whether  it  seemed  to  him  that  I 
had  pulled  it  hard.  Hearing  that  it  was  a 
gentle  tweak,  and  given  with  a  smiling  face, 
'Whose  face?'  broke  in  the  judge.  'The 
prisoner's,  your  Honor.'  'Then  it  was  a 
joke,'  said  the  judge,  growing  red.  '  Sure, 
your  Honor!' 

"  Judge  McGuffy  drew  himself  up,  and  put 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         71 

on  a  severely  judicial  air:  'Case  dismissed. 
But  look  here,  young  fellow,  don't  you  try  it 
on  again.  This  court'  (and  he  winked  in  the 
direction  of  the  reporters)  '  don't  appreciate 
such  jokes.  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
yourself.  Next !' 

"  Of  course  I  lost  my  place,"  added  Willis, 
in  conclusion. 

"Is  it  possible?"  laughed  Tenterden; 
"merely  for  tweaking  the  noses  of  your 
fares  to  refresh  their  memories !  But,  my 
dear  boy,  it  is  clear  to  me  that  you  can  never 
hope  to  rise  to  eminence  as  a  tram-way  con- 
ductor. We  must  find  some  other  career 
for  you.  How  do  you  like  city  life  ?  I  dare 
say  you  would  be  glad  to  get  back  to  farm- 
ing, if  the  truth  were  known  ?" 

Willis  gave  an  eloquent  look. 

"Then  I  have  a  business  proposition  to 
make  to  you." 

Tenterden  stood  for  a  little  while  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  then  resumed : 


72         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  It  so  happens  that  I  am  a  sort  of  agent, 
you  might  say;  at  any  rate,  I  have  control 
of  a  few  thousand  pounds  belonging  to  an 
Englishman,  which  I  am  at  liberty  to  invest, 
if.  I  see  proper.  You  tell  me  that  land  is  to 
be  had  cheap  in  Virginia,  and  a  strong  fancy 
has  come  over  me  to  own  a  farm  down 
there." 

"Yourself?" 

"  I — I — well,  I  should  have  control  of  it." 

"  Of  course." 

"  Now,  I  have  been  informed  that  my 
countrymen  are  often  far  from  judicious  in 
the  purchase  of  land.  I  have  heard  of 
several  among  them  who  have  come  to 
grief,  through — well,  through  knowing  too 
much." 

Willis  smiled. 

"  Well,  we  have  our  weak  points !"  laughed 
Tenterden.  "  Now,  I  desire  to  do  that  rare 
thing, — profit  by  the  experience  of  others. 
I  shall  place  myself  in  the  hands  of  a  guide 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         73 

and  not  rely  on  my  British  omniscience. 
Will  you  assume  that  rdlef" 

Willis's  eyes  danced,  but :  "  I  am  young 
and  inexperienced " 

"  Yes,  but  you  would  know  whom  to  call 
in  consultation.  Moreover,  the  emoluments  I 
offer  are  far  from  splendid.  I  should  pay  your 
expenses,  and  you  might  consider  the  sum 
I  have  lent  you  a  '  retainer.'  In  return  you 
would  travel  about  with  me  and  play  mentor." 

The  young  fellow  found  it  impossible  to 
keep  down  the  joyous  smile  that  overspread 
his  face  like  morning  light. 

"  And,  should  we  buy  a  farm,  you  would 
show  me  how  to  manage  it  for  a  year  or  so. 
Is  it  a  bargain?  All  right!  Very  well. 
And  it  seems  rather  the  natural  thing  that  we 
should  look  first  at  your  mother's  farm " 

"As  to  that " 

"Naturally, — but  /  have  the  right  to 
begin  there.  It  might  turn  out  that — how- 
ever  " 


74         Gold  lhat  did  not  Glitter. 

"When  are  we  to  set  out?" 

"  Are  you  anxious  to  see  that  mother 
and  sister  ?  Then  why  not  write  to-night  ? 
There  is  doubtless  an  inn  in  some  neigh- 
boring village,  where  I — no  ?  Oh,  I  under- 
stand— thanks,  very  much.  But  let  your 
mother  know  that  you  are  to  bring  a  blasted 

Britisher  with  you The  Old  Dominion  ! 

Isn't  that  what  you  call  it  ?  They  say  you 
are  very  hospitable  down  there,  and  that 
Englishmen  find  themselves  at  home  among 
your  people.  By  the  way,  I  suppose  I  shall 
have  to  be  a  little  careful  as  to  forgetting 
any  one  to  whom  you  may  introduce  me — 
your  Virginian  method  of  refreshing  one's 
memory " 

"Please  forget  that  little  episode " 

"  Ah,  but  the  simplicity  and  directness  of 
the  thing !  Your  hand — or  your  nose ! 
Delicious,  by  Jove !  Well,  suppose  we  walk. 
Nothing  more?  not  even  a  pony? — weed? 
—Ah !" 


VIII. 

OUR  two  friends  reached  the  front  steps  of 
"The  Cedars"  without  being  observed;  fora 
cold  wind  whistled  over  the  hills,  and  every- 
body was  within-doors.  But  no  sooner  had 
the  sturdy  farm-horse  sent  up  a  burst  of 
steam  from  his  nostrils,  in  front  of  the  sit- 
ting-room window,  than  one  of  its  panes 
framed,  for  an  instant,  a  lovely,  eager 
young  face.  Then  there  was  a  lovely,  eager 
young  shriek  of  joy,  the  light  pit-a-pat  of 
hurrying  feet,  and  the  woosh-woosh  of  flut- 
tering skirts 

What  heart  has  not  stood  still  at  the 
sound,  even  though  knowing  that  one's  best 
sister  was  hundreds  of  miles  away  ? 

Open  flew  the  door! 

Parted,  too,  fair  portals  of  pearls  and  of 
roses ! 

75 


7 6         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"Oh,  Bob!" 

Bob  was  flying  up  the  steps,  but  his  sister 
precipitated  herself  upon  him  with  flushed 
cheeks  and  sparkling  eyes, — with  eager 
arms,  and  low,  half-articulate  murmurs  of 
delight. 

The  love  of  a  sister  for  a  brother  is  beau- 
tiful as  the  morning. 

After  a  responsive  hug  that  would  have 
done  honor  to  a  grizzly,  Bob  hurried  to  meet 
his  mother;  while  his  sister,  finding  herself 
confronted  by  the  Englishman : 

"  We  are  so  glad  you  came  with  Bob,"  said 
she,  with  a  cordial  hand-shake.  And  the 
honest  greeting  of  her  ingenuous  eyes  em- 
phasized the  hospitable  warmth  of  her  words 
and  her  manner. 

Probably  Tenterden,  who  had  travelled  in 
all  parts  of  the  world,  lacked  the  normal 
amount  of  reserve  with  which  his  folk  are 
credited.  Whatever  supply  he  possessed, 
however,  melted  instantly  under  the  soft  but 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         77 

steady  light  of  those  frank  blue  eyes, — de- 
livered, too,  at  short  range;  for  she  did  not 
stand  at  arm's  length.  Obviously,  in  her 
hospitable  zeal,  she  remembered  only  that  he 
was  guest,  she  hostess. 

"We  are  so  glad  you  came  with  Bob!" 

"  So  am  I !"  blurted  out  the  Englishman,  a 
trifle  shocked,  a  moment  afterwards,  by  his 
own  bluntness ;  but,  somehow,  it  seemed  so 
natural  to  say  that ! 

"Then  we  are  both  glad!" 

Another  laughing  hand-shake.  They  were 
friends  already ! 

Then,  with  a  graceful  stoop,  she  grasped 
her  skirts  in  her  right  hand,  with  her  left 
motioning  him  up  the  steps.  The  wind  was 
whistling  round  her  supple  form.  With  a 
slight  shiver  she  gave  old  Boreas  the  prettiest 
little  frown, — enough  to  have  made  him 
ashamed  of  himself. 

"  You  have  on  no  wraps !"  cried  he,  with 
sudden  solicitude. 

7* 


7  8         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  No,— the  sight  of  Bob " 

«  Oh,  but " 

And  they  trotted   up  the   steps,  side  by 
side. 
Aha! 


IX. 

NOTWITHSTANDING  their  reduced  circum- 
stances, the  Willises  dined  late,  in  the  belief 
that  the  consciousness  that  the  day's  labors 
were  over  could  not  but  add  zest  to  the 
simplest  repast.  A  bright  lamp,  therefore,  lit 
up  the  snowy  damask,  when  our  four  friends 
took  their  seats  at  dinner  on  this  cold  De- 
cember evening. 

To  Tenterden  there  was  a  certain  pathos 
in  the  handsome  appointments  of  the  table, 
glittering  remains  of  departed  prosperity,  as 
well  as  in  the  severe  simplicity  that  marked 
the  attire  of  the  two  ladies.  As  a  man  of 
the  world  he  knew,  and  his  rather  painfully 
sympathetic  nature  made  him  feel,  that  it 
must  be  a  sore  trial  to  a  pretty  young  girl 
to  appear  before  a  stranger  in  so  economical 
a  toilet.  Though,  why  she  should  feel  un- 

79 


80         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

comfortable,  on  that  account,  mused  he,  I 
cannot  see,  for  the  life  of  me.  It  is  the 
woman,  not  the  dress,  that  we  men  care  for. 
But  you  can't  get  that  idea  into  their  blessed 
little  heads.  I  wonder  if  they  are  afraid  of 
one  another?  That  must  be  the  trouble! 
There,  didn't  her  hair  flash  prettily  in  the 
lamplight,  as  she  turned  her  head! 

Look  to  it  warily,  John  Bull,  lest  she  turn 
yours. 

What  a  nice,  little  round  table,  and  la  bdla 
opposite  me !  A  loving  family  is  a  pretty 
sight.  I  wonder  why  there  is  so  little  affec- 
tion in  wealthy  households?  Too  many 
gilded  bones  to  fight  over,  I  suppose, — that 
is,  I  "  reckon."  After  all,  things  are  tolerably 
even.  What  a  tremendous  swell  the  old  lady 
is ! — no,  not  swell,  but  one  can  see,  at  a 
glance,  that  she  has  had  no  end  of  grand- 
mothers. And  such  a  delicate,  fine-grained 
skin  !  American  women  seem  to  me  to  sur- 
pass all  others  in  that  regard.  There !  that 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         8 1 

poor  girl  glancing  down  at  her  dress  with  a 
furtive  sigh.  Don't  trouble  yourself:  I  shan't 
look  at  it,  as  long  as  I  have  in  full  view 
those  oval  cheeks  of  rose-tinted  ivory 

(Oho !) 

"  Thanks  !" — how  did  she  know  I  wanted 
the  salt?  But  they  all  seem  to  know  just 
what  you  lack,  just  a  moment  before  you 
know  it  yourself.  Deuced  convenient  kind 
of  mind-reading,  when  a  chap  is  as  hungry 
as  a  wolf,  and  ashamed  to  ask  for  another 
slice.  "Salt?" — and  with  such  a  pleasant, 
co — no,  not  coquettish,  but — well,  hospita- 
ble smile.  It  was  not  my  fault,  but  the 
salt-cellar  was  so  small  that  our  fingers 
got  entangled,  and  somehow  we  dropped  it. 
However,  not  a  grain  was  spilled. 

I  think  pink  finger-tips  are  very  pretty. 

Sometimes  they  are  as  soft  as  rose-petals. 

What  a  capital  idea  these  screens  are !  I 
had  noticed  that  the  doors  and  windows 
did  not  keep  out  the  air  very  well.  A  few 


82         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

pounds  would  make  the  house  comfortable; 
but  I  suppose  they  have  not  the  pounds. 
Deuced  shame !  But  what  a  snuggery  this 
dining-room  is !  Bright  fire  on  one  side, 
screens  on  the  other  three!  Keeps  out  all 
draughts  and  brings  us  all  so  close  together. 
Birds  in  a  pie,  by  Jove !  One  feels  as  though 
we  were  the  only  four  people  in  the  world, — 
we  and  the  old  butler.  Droll  chap,  this 
Uncle  Reuben:  seems  to  think  that  I  am 
his  guest !  "  Thanks,  very  much."  Haven't 
been  here  three  hours ;  how  is  it  that  I  feel 
almost  like  one  of  the  family  ? 

(What!) 

It  must  be  the  screens.  Awfully  snug, 
I'm  sure.  Jolly  fun,  the  way  she  pinched 
Bob's  ear,  for  teasing  her. 

Sisters  are  nice.  I  wish  she — I  mean  I 
wish  I  had  a  sister.  Bob  asked  her  whether 
the  old  pouter-pigeon  had  been  cooing 
around  lately.  "  A  fat  old  widower,  who" — 
oh,  I  see — and  she  pulled  his  ear  for  calling 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         8  3 

her  an  "  unsophisticated  squab."  I  have  de- 
tested fat  old  widowers  ever  since  I  can  re- 
member. Come  to  think  of  it,  they  are  like 
pouters, — strut,  strut !  Coo,  coo  !  A  friend 
of  mine  had  a  dovecot,  and  a  burly  old  blue- 
rock  widower  made  love  to  every  female 
squab  as  soon  as  her  bill  broke  the  shell. 
Pig! 

"Unsophisticated  squab!"  I  wonder — 
h'm! 

(Oho !) 


X. 


A  FORTNIGHT  later  Tenterden  had  a  con- 
versation on  business  with  Bob  and  his 
mother : 

"  Your  son  has  informed  you  that  I  have 
come  to  Virginia  with  a  view  to  investing 
a  few  thousand  pounds  of  which  I  have 
control.  I  told  him  that,  before  looking 
elsewhere,  I  should  examine  into  the  ex- 
pediency of  buying  the  mortgage  on  your 
farm,  which  is  to  be  foreclosed  next  month." 

The  widow  gave  a  little  shiver. 

"  I  have  seen  your  lawyer  and  acquainted 
myself  with  the  facts  of  the  case,  and  have 
ridden  over  every  field  on  the  farm  in  his 
company,  as  you  know,  to  get  some  idea 
of  its  value.  Bob  recommended  me  to  con- 
sult another  lawyer,  but  I  liked  what  I  saw 
of  your  man  of  business, — and,  besides,  he 
84 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         85 

is  a  farmer  as  well  as  a  lawyer.  After 
considering  everything  carefully,  I  have  de- 
cided to  invest  for  my  English  friend — with 
your  consent,  of  course?" 

The  widow  tried  to  speak. 

Bob  managed  to  say  that  the  consent  was 
a  matter  of  course,  since  otherwise  the  family 
would  be  turned  out  of  house  and  home.  It 
would  be  a  respite,  at  least. 

Again  the  widow  essayed  to  speak :  "  Oh, 
sir" — but  could  get  no  further;  so,  clasp- 
ing her  hands,  she  lifted  up  her  eyes  and 
her  heart  in  passionate  gratitude  to  that 
God  who  had  long  been  her  refuge  and 
solace. 

"You  will  understand,"  added  Tenterden, 
interpreting  her  silence,  "  that  this  is  a  purely 
business  transaction.  I  utterly  disclaim  all 
right  to  your  thanks." 

"  But  I  must — I  will  thank  you !"  cried 
Mrs.  Willis,  smiling  through  her  tears. 

"  Very  well,  I  accept  your  gratitude  grate- 
8 


86         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

fully,"  replied  he,  laughing.  "  But  let  us  go 
into  details.  In  England,  as  you  know,  the 
rate  of  interest  is  very  low.  My  friend  will 
therefore  be  satisfied  with  four  per  cent.,  on 
a  safe  investment.  That  will  be  a  reduction 
of  one-third." 

"  Oh,  thank  you  !" 

Tenterden  shook  a  finger,  smiling :  "  I 
thought " 

"Very  well,  I  shall  not  interrupt  you 
again." 

"  Four  per  cent,  then.  And  hard  enough 
you  will  find  it  to  pay  that.  I  have  informed 
myself  pretty  well  as  to  the  profits  of  farm- 
ing in  this  region.  About  all  one  can  get 
out  of  it  is  a  living." 

The  widow  sighed  assent. 

"And  if  you  can  barely  pay  four,  why 
promise  six?  I  have  discussed  the  matter 
with  your  lawyer,  and  he  approves." 

"  I  need  hardly  say  that  we  do,"  laughed 
Bob. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         87 

•  "  So  much  for  proposition  number  one,  and 
now  for  number  two.  I  have  said  that,  year 
in  and  year  out,  you  will  find  it  hard  enough 
to  pay  interest  at  four  per  cent. " 

"  Oh,  we  can  easily  manage  that !"  cried 
Bob,  cheerily. 

"  I  hope  so ;  but,  in  regard  to  the  coming 
year,  I  venture  to  predict  that,  with  all  the 
expense  you  will  be  at,  getting  things  into 
shape,  you  will  not  be  able  to  pay  one  dollar 
of  interest !" 

His  two  auditors  looked  shocked. 

"Oh,  I  hope "  began  Bob. 

"  Hope  is  all  very  well, — it  is  about  all 
one  ever  gets,  by  the  way ;  but,  as  I  am  not 
so  sanguine,  I  have  thought  of  a  little 
scheme  to  meet  the  trouble." 

Mrs.  Willis  and  her  son  looked  up,  won- 
dering. As  for  Tenterden,  his  manner  was 
hesitating,  and  his  clear,  fresh,  English  com- 
plexion grew  a  trifle  rosier  as  he  began,  turn- 
ing to  Bob: 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  How  would  you  like  to  take  me  as  a 
pupil  in  farming?" 

"  A  pupil  in  farming !     You  !" 

"Why  not?  I  am  thinking  of  buying  a 
farm — a  little  farm  within  my  means — for 
myself — after  a  year  or  so ;  and,  if  I  learned 
something'  of  the  methods  in  use  in  these 
parts,  before  embarking  in  the  business  on 
my  own  account,  wouldn't  it  lessen  the 
probability  of  my  being  sold  out?  I  am 
told  that  that  has  often  happened  to  my 
countrymen.  At  any  rate,  this  is  my  propo- 
sition :  I  will  let  you  off  with  the  first  year's 
interest,  in  return  for  careful  and  systematic 
instruction  in  the  art  of  farming." 

"  Systematic  fiddlesticks !  Absolutely  ab- 
surd !  Several  hundred  dollars  for  simply 
nothing!" 

"  You  did  not  let  me  finish.  I  was  going 
on  to  add  that,  if  you  thought  I  was  paying 
too  dear  for  your  instruction " 

"  Instruction !" 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         89 

"  Well,  then,  if  it  strikes  you  as  so  very 
ludicrous,  suppose — you  take  me  —  as — a 
boarding  pupil  in  your  agricultural  college? 
But,"  added  he,  hurriedly  and  with  rising 
color,  "  I  don't  ask  for  an  immediate  decision. 
Wait  till  I  return  from  Richmond.  There  is 
Uncle  Rueben  with  the  buggy.  I  must  be 
off" 


XL 

UNCLE  REUBEN  brought  a  note  on  his  re- 
turn from  the  station.  As  he  entered  the 
sitting-room,  Bessie  happened  to  be  sitting 
next  the  door,  and  he  handed  it  to  her. 

"What!  so  soon!"  cried  Bob. 

"Come,  Bob,  come;  you  must  not  tease 
your  sister." 

"  Pooh !"  poohed  the  lovely  Bess,— all  the 
lovelier  because  of  the  conch-shell  hue  that 
flashed  over  cheek  and  brow. 

"  No,  don't  tease  Little  Missis,  Little 
Mahster,"  chimed  in  the  venerable  Reuben, 
emboldened  by  long  service  and  white 
hairs;  "'case  worriment  sets  folks  ag'in' 
folks." 

The  implications  of  this  sententious  utter- 
ance made  Bessie  smile,  in  spite  of  herself. 
90 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         91 

"Why,  Uncle  Reuben,  the  note  is  not  ad- 
dressed," cried  she,  holding  it  up  under  his 
nose. 

"  No'm.  De  train  ketch  him  a-studyin' 
and  a-studyin'  wid  he  head  on  he  han',  jess 
so;  an'  he  didn't  have  no  time  to  say 
howdy,  nor  good-by  neither,  on  de  outside 
o'  de  letter.  He  had  to  jump  keen  to  git 
aboard,  I  tell  you.  Howsomever,  he  fling 
some'n  to  ole  Reuben,  out'n  de  winder,  he 
did,  arter  she  were  a-movin'  pretty  p'yert. 
He  had  time  to  think  o'  dat,  h'ya,  h'ya, 
h'ya!" 

"But  didn't  he  tell  you  whom  the  note 
was  for?" 

"  I  wonder  ef  he  ain't  done  'spress  heself 
in  de  insides  o'  de  letter?  'Cause  my  ole 
mahster,  he  writ  me  a  letter,  once,  from  de 
Springs,  'bout  de  craps ;  an'  de  governess-lady 
she  read  it  to  me,  and  'pear  like  de  bulk  o' 
ole  mahster's  letter  was  de  insides.  May- 
be  " 


92         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  Let  us  have  the  insides  of  the  note,  Bess : 
read  it,"  laughed  Bob. 

"I  WILL  NOT!"  And  Elizabeth,  bridling, 
tossed  the  letter  to  her  brother :  "  It  must  be 
for  you,  of  course  /" 

Whereupon,  Uncle  Reuben,  with  a  depre- 
catory cough  into  his  hand,  stole  from  the 
room,  softly  closing  the  door  behind  him. 


XII. 

DURING  the  discussion  of  this  note  (and  its 
author)  between  Bob  and  his  mother,  Bessie, 
with  a  copy  of  "The  Newcomes"  held  in 
front  of  her  face,  seemed  to  be  learning  a 
favorite  passage  by  heart. 

"  What  do  you  say,  Bess  ?" 

"H'm?" 

"H'm?  H'm?"  mimicked  Bob;  "you 
have  not  heard  one  word  we  have  said,  of 
course!  Yet,  to  my  certain  knowledge, 
you  have  not  turned  a  page  for  ten  min- 
utes !" 

"  It  was  not  very  respectful  to  mother  to  be 
watching  me  while  she  was  talking,"  said 
Bess,  reddening  slightly. 

"  I  forgive  him,  Bess.  You  heard  what  we 
said  ?" 

"  'M,  ye-s.  Wasn't  it  something  about  Mr. 

93 


94         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

Tenterden's  making  his  home  with  us  for  a 
time?" 

"It  was,  you  little  humbug!"  cried  Bob, 
snatching  at  the  book.  The  struggle  ended 
in  her  stuffing  it  behind  her  back, — a  place 
of  safety,  to  the  female  mind. 

"What  do  you  want  to  know?"  laughed 
she,  in  rosy  triumph. 

"  Do  you  agree  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  agree !  Do  you  suppose  I 
would  throw  obstacles  in  the  way  of  any 
business  arrangements  of  yours  or  mother's?" 

"  That  isn't  the  question.  Is  the  plan  per- 
sonally objectionable  to  you  ?" 

"  Personally  objectionable  !  Why  should 
it  be?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  had  an  idea  that 
you  did  not  like  him." 

"Not  like  Mr.  Tenterden!  And  why, 
pray  ?" 

"You  have  never  told  me  that  you  did." 

Poor  Bob! 


XIII. 

"  Dis  here  fire  feel  mighty  good.  Wind 
was  powerful  p'yert,  I  tell  you !"  remarked 
Reuben,  as  he  toasted  himself  before  the 
kitchen  fire. 

"  I  believe  you !"  replied  the  cook.  "  So 
de  gent'mun  gone,  is  he?  I  always  disre- 
member  he  name." 

"  Temptin,  Mr.  Temptin,  dat's  what  I  hear 
'em  call  him.  Yes,  he  gone;  but  he'll  be 
back  Thursday.  I'se  to  have  de  buggy  at 
de  train  for  him." 

"What  he  give  you,  Reuben?" 

"  He  gimme  a  dollar." 

"  Umgh !" 

"Yes,  he  did.     Here  'tis." 

"  H'm,  brand  new !  Lemme  hole  it  in  my 
han'.  Cert'n'y  do  crackle  pretty !  Reuben !" 

"  H'm  ?     What  de  matter,  Kesiah  ?" 

95 


9  6         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  Who  tell  you  dis  was  a  dollar  ?" 

"  Who  tell  me  ?  What  kind  o'  fool  ques- 
tion is  dat,  gal  ?  I  tell  myself,  in  course !  I 
know  a  dollar,  jess  as  easy!" 

"  You  does,  does  you  !  Is  you  notice  dat 
quirlimikew  on  to  de  eend  o'  de  note?" 

"  No,  I  ain't,  an',  what's  mo',  I  ain't  a-gwine 
to !  Gimme  back  my  dollar,  'oman !  Mr. 
Temptin,  he  gimme  a  dollar,  an'  no  quirlimi- 
kews  can't  make  it  no  less !  You  wants  to 
make  me  b'lieve  dis  is  some  o'  dat  little  ole 
fractious  cur'ncy  as  dey  used  to  have,  does 
you  ?  Dis  is  a  fifty-cent,  I  reckon !  Maybe 
it's  a  quarter !  H'm !  next  thing  you'll  call  it 
a  dime !" 

"  Dere  ain't  no  call  for  you  to  git  so  ashy, 
Reuben.  I  jess  ax  you  ef  you  see  dat  little 
quirlimikew  in  de  cornder,  an' " 

"  Ashy !  quirlimikew !  Next  time  I  git  a 
dollar,  I  keeps  it  in  my  moneypu's'.  Oh,  t 
know ;  you  mad  'cause  he  forgit  you  !  Dat's 
it!" 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         97 

"  No  'tain't,  nuther.  He  gimme  jess  de 
same,  quirlimikews  an'  all."  And  with  that, 
lifting  the  lid  of  her  "  chist,"  she  thrust  a 
crisp  note  under  Reuben's  nose. 

"  Den  what  for  you  go  an'  make  small  o' 
my  belongin's?" 

•"I  didn't  no  sich  a  thing!" 

"Yes,  you  did!" 

"  I  didn't,  I  tell  you !" 

"You  did!" 

"  Hello,  hello !  What  are  you  old  people 
quarrelling  about?"  cried  Bob,  cheerily,  as 
he  thrust  his  head  into  the  kitchen  door. 

"  Dat  you,  Little  Mahster  ?  I  glad  you 
come ;  you  can  settle  a  p'int  twixt  Kesiah  an' 
me.  She  ax  me  what  de  gent'mun  gimme 
when  I  druv  him  over,  an'  I  say  one  dollar ; 
an'  den  Kesiah,  woman-like,  she  must  hole  it 
in  her  han' ;  and  den,  'stid  o'  han'in'  me  back 
my  dollar,  she  set  her  head  fust  on  one  side 
an'  den  on  t'other,  she  did,  an'  spy  at  my 
dollar;  an'  den  she  upped,  she  did,  an'  said 
E  g  9 


9^         Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

'twarn't  no  dollar.     Ain't  dat  a  dollar,  Little 
Mahster?" 

Little  Mahster  took  the  note  in  his  hand. 
The  heated  disputants  hung  upon  his  looks 
with  bated  breath. 

He  raised  his  eyes  to  Reuben's  face,  then 
slowly  shook  his  head :  "  No,  that  is  not  a 
dollar-bill !" 

"What  I  tell  you?"  cried  Kesiah. 

Poor  Reuben's  eyes  fell.  His  stature 
shrunk  half  a  foot. 

A  negro  does  not  care  for  money,  as  such, 
but  is  acutely  sensitive  to  the  ignominy  of 
defeat. 

Lifting  his  hand  to  his  head,  the  unhappy 
old  butler  toyed  feebly  with  the  snowy  fringe 
of  hair  that  shaded  his  ears : 

"What  is  it,  den,  Little  Mahster?"  asked 
he,  in  a  humble  whisper. 
"  It  is  a  five-dollar  bill." 

"  Glory !"  cried  Kesiah, — "  he  gimme  jess 
sich  another!" 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.         99 

Bob  looked  thoughtful  as  he  walked  back, 
slowly,  towards  the  house.  He  stood  for 
two  minutes  with  his  foot  on  the  lower  front 
step. 

"Why  that  brown  study?"  asked  Bessie, 
throwing  up  the  window. 

"Oh,  nothing!"  replied  Bob. 


XIV. 

"WELL,"  said  Bob,  a  few  days  later,  at 
breakfast,  "  this  is  Thursday." 

"Thursday?"  repeated  Bess,  looking  up; 
"  what  of  that  ?" 

"Why,  Tenterden  will  be  back  this  after- 
noon." 

"  Oh !" 

"Had  you  forgotten  it?" 

"N-no, — not  forgotten  it,  exactly.  I 
thought  that  perhaps  you  were  reminding 
us  that  to-night  will  be  Christmas-eve." 

"Ah,  Christmas-eve!"  repeated  Bob,  a 
smile  chasing  away  the  shade  of  annoyance 
wrought  by  his  sister's  indifference  to  his 
friend.  "  Have  you  been  able  to  get  the 
eggs,  Bess  ?  Plenty  and  fresh  ?  Good ! 
And,  mother,  I  hope  some  of  the  old  cognac 
is  left  still?  A  little  of  the  peach-brandy 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       101 

too !  Ah,  we  shall  have  an  old-time  eggnog ! 
I  hope  he  will  like  it." 

"Who?"  asked  Bessie;  and  the  little  fin- 
ger of  her  right  hand,  as  she  raised  a  fragile 
cup  to  her  bewitching  mouth,  curved  itself, 
unconsciously,  into  a  rosy  interrogation- 
point. 

"  Why,  Tenterden,  of  course !" 

"  Oh !" 

Bob  laid  down  his  knife  and  fork,  with  an 
impatient  gesture,  then  resumed  his  break- 
fast in  silence. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter,  Bob?  What's 
the  matter  ?  Tell  me,"  repeated  she,  laying 
hold  of  his  chin  and  pulling  his  head  round 
till  their  eyes  met.  "  Why,  mother,  he  is 
positively  angry!" 

"  No,  I  am  not  angry ;  but,  as  Tenterden 
is  to  live  with  us  for  a  year,  it  is  a  pity  that 
you  should  begin  by  disliking  him,  that's 
all." 

"Disliking  him!      The  silly  boy!"     And, 


IO2       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

dropping  her  hands  upon  the  table,  Bessie's 
eyes  appealed  to  the  ceiling. 

"Mother,  do  I  dislike  Mr.  Tenterden?" 

"  Not  that  I  know  of,  my  dear.  At  any 
rate,  you  said,  the  day  of  his  arrival,  that 
you  thought  him  exceedingly  handsome." 

"  Did  I  ?"  There  was  a  faint  flush  on  her 
cheek.  Witnesses  are  sometimes  overzealous. 
"  What  I  meant  was,  tolerably  good-looking'' 

"  He  is  thundering  handsome,"  broke  in 
Bob,  aggressively. 

"  Oh,  you  are  in  love  with  him !" 

"Bess,  why  don't  you  like  him?  Tell 
me?" 

"  How  often  must  I  repeat  that  I  like  him 
[sip  of  coffee]  ever  [sip]  so  much  ?  Would 
you  have  me  dying  in  love  with  the  poor 
man,  before  he  knows  the  color  of  my  eyes, 
very  likely?" 

"  Speaking  of  color,  Bess,  your  walk  this 
morning  seems  to  have  brought  the  roses  to 
your  cheeks.  Upon  my  word,  if  any  fellow 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       IO3 

except  your  brother  saw  you,  the  way  you 
are  looking  now " 

"  Flatterer !"  and  she  gave  his  ear  a  grateful 
pinch.  "Well,  I  must  go  and  get  through 
with  my  practising  early  to-day." 

"  Mother,  didn't  you  notice  what  a  lovely 
color  her  walk  gave  her  ?" 

Poor  Bob! 


XV. 

"WELL,  I  done  fetch  him  back,  Kesiah, 
an'  glad  un  it,  at  datl" 

"  Course  you  glad !  I  too !  Bound  I  was  at 
de  kitchen  do'  to  curchy  to  him !  He  see 
me,  too,  an'  he  bow  back  at  me.  He  is 
quality,  ef  you  hear  Kesiah,  Mr.  Tenpin  is !" 

"Tenpin!  Tenpin!  What  for  you  keep 
resistin'  on  callin'  de  gent'mun  out  o'  he 
name  ?  Ain't  I  done  tell  you  he  call  heself 
Temptin  ?" 

"Lor",  Reuben,  I  neber  could  'member 
none  o'  dem  outlandish,  furrin  names !" 

"  Wuss  and  wuss,  gal !  Don't  you  know 
Mr.  Temptin  ain't  no  furriner?" 

"  I  hear  'em  say  he  come  from  furrin  parts." 

"  What  sort  o'  furrin  parts  !  Ain't  he  tell 
me,  heself,  he  come  from  ole  Englunt  ?  An' 
hukkum  he  talk  ole  Fidginny  talk  ef  he  war 
104 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 


one  o'  dese  outlandishers  ?  Ain't  I  hear  'em 
at  de  depot,  on  de  trains?  Sich  another 
cacklin'  like  hens,  an'  gruntin'  like  pigs,  an' 
squawkin'  like  crows  !  Lor',  chile,  you  don't 
know  nothin',  settin'  back  here  in  dis  here 
kitchen  !  One  day  dey  jabber  dat  foolish  dat 
I  upped  an'  said  to  de  depot  gent'mun,  says 
I,  '  Ef  dey  is  folks,  why  don't  dey  talk  like 
humans?  Fust  thing  dey  know,'  says  I, 
'some  o'  dese  here  circus  people  gwine  to 
catch  'em,  an'  den  whar  is  dey  ?  In  de  cages 
wid  de  show  critters  an'  rangytangs  an* 
varmints.'  B'fo'  Gaud,  I  tell  him  jess  so,  an' 
he  laugh  an'  laugh,  twell  he  'most  buss  he 
wesscoat  !" 

Kesiah  (after  putting  some  strain  on  her 
wesscoat)  :  "  I  don't  reckon  Englunt  is  so 
ve'y  fur  from  here,  arter  all?" 

"  Kesiah,  jess  lemme  give  you  a  p'int  'bout 
dat  ;  people  who  is  fur  is  furriners,  jess  like 
people  who  ain't  fur  ain't  furriners.  Nothin' 
c'yant  be  no  plainer'n  dat  !" 


io6       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  Cert'n'y,  dat's  a  fac'." 

"  Reuben  don't  drive  to  de  depot,  an'  mix 
wid  de  people,  for  nothin" !" 

"  B'fo'  Gaud,  Reuben,  ef  you  goes  on  in 
dis  way,  one  o'  dese  days  you'll  know  more'n 
you  don't  know!  Howsomever,  I  hear  one 
o'  dese  little  school-niggers  say  dat  betwixt 
Fidginny  and  Englunt  dere  was  de  most 
owdaciousest  big  ribber  as  ever  was.  He 
'lowed  as  how  de  name  of  it  was  a  Notion, 
or  some'nornurrer.  How  'bout  dat?" 

"  Notion  don't  sound  so  monstrous  big !  I 
bet  you  'tain't  a  tetchin'  to  Jeames  Ribber  ? 
An'  whar's  de  bridges,  leastwise  ferry-boats  ? 
Howsomever,  he  here,  Notion  or  no  Notion. 
Whar  must  we  hide  all  dem  Christmas  things 
he  fetch  along  ?  In  de  dairy  ?  He  want  to 
s'prise  'em,  you  see.  Dere  is  a  hamper  o' 
wild  ducks  an'  pattridges  an'  things,  an'  a 
basket  o'  fruit,  an'  another  basket  o'  cham- 
pagne  " 

"  Heish !" 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       107 

"An',  Lor'  bless  my  soul,  I  neber  see  so 
many  bandanas  in  my  born  days, — a  whole 
bunch  un  'em,  ef  my  name's  Reuben !" 

"Bound  he  fotch  a  diamond  ring  or  a 
necklace,  leastwise  some  powerful  fine  orna- 
ment, for  Little  Mistiss?" 

"What  kind  o'  foolishness  you  talkin', 
Kesiah !  De  quality  don't  'cept  jewelry  an' 
sich,  onless  dey  engaged!" 

"  Maybe  not !  Maybe  not !  Howsomever, 
when  I  was  a  gal,  I  always  used  to  'spise  a 
beau,  'cep'n'  onless  he  were  giwy!  An'  I 
do  reckon  gals  is  gals !" 

"  He  fotch  Little  Mistiss  some  flowers.  I 
see  de  eends  a-stickin'  out  o'  de  paper." 

"  Flowers  !  Lord  'a'  mussy  !  White  folks 
is  cuyous,  to-be-sho!  Gimme  a  p'yar  o' 
shoes,  or  a  hankcher,  or  a  dress  to  wrop 
myself  up  in !  No  flowers  for  Kesiah ! 
Here  to-day,  an'  gone  to-morrow !  Reuben, 
does  Mr.  Tenpin — I  should  say  Tentpin — 
want  Little  Mistiss,  you  reckon?" 


io8       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  Want  her  ?  He  want  her  powerful !  He 
needn't  try  to  fool  Reuben,  fall  he  come 
from  Englunt.  '  Howdy  do,  Uncle  Reuben  ?' 
[mimicking] ;  '  an'  how's  Mrs.  Willis,  an' 
how's  Mr.  Bob  ?' — makin'  'ten'  he  done  forgit 
Little  Mistiss!  Nemmind!  Ole  Reub  got 
he  eye  on  you !  I  been  see  de  quality  pro- 
jickin'  'long  o'  dey  lady-loves  afore  dis ! 
Presen'y,  fixin'  up  he  mouf,  sort  of  prim-like, 
an'  lookin'  way  'cross  de  field,  like  he  warn't 
a-keerin',  'an'  I  hope  Miss  Willis  [mincing] 
is  quite  well  ?'  '  Miss  Willis  !'  You  jess 
ought  to  hear  how  he  renounce  her  entitle- 
ments !  Soft  an'  easy !  Butter  wouldn't  melt 
in  he  mouf!  Fool  Reuben?  He  may  be 
Englunt,  but  dis  here  [slapping  his  breast] 
is  ole  Fidginny!  Umgh — umgh!" 

"An*  ain't  I  see  how  she  look  when  she 
see  him  come  back?" 

"I  ain't  see  her  nowhar!" 

"  Course  not !  You  ain't  fling  you  eye  up 
to  her  window.  A  'oman  knows  whar  to 


Gold  that  did  ?wt  Glitter. 


look  for  another  'oman.  Ain't  I  see  her  jess 
a-pullin'  back  her  curtains,  sly  as  a  weasel, 
an'  a-peepin'  down  wid  one  eye,  an'  a-leanin' 
over  an'  watchin'  twell  he  git  into  de  house  ; 
an'  ain't  I  see  glory  on  her  face?" 

"  You  did  !  Well,  ef  she  is  lookin'  towards 
him,  she  done  fool  Reuben,  —  an'  Little 
Mahster  too.  She  make  Little  Mahster  mad, 
she  talk  so  keerless-like  'bout  he  friend. 
Howsomever,  Mr.  Temptin  better  watch  he- 
self,  fall  you  see  glory  shine  in  her  eye,  for 
I  hear  'em  say  dat  a  Fidginny  gal  is  de  most 
flirtinest  critter  dat  ever  war  wropped  up  in 
ten  yards  o'  calico!" 

"  Umgh  —  umgh  !  Go  'long,  man  !  Don't 
talk!  Ain't  I  see  'em  myself?" 


10 


XVI. 

"You  must  not  listen  to  Bob's  raptures," 
said  Bessie;  "eggnog  is  wretched  stuff, — at 
least  I  think  so, — but  it  is  fun  to  make  it." 

"  You  will  let  me  help,  won't  you  ?" 

"  Can  you  beat  eggs  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure ;  I  never  tried." 

"  How  education  must  be  neglected  in 
England !" 

"  I  have  come  to  Virginia  to  complete 
mine !" 

Six  or  eight  of  the  neighbors  were  ex- 
pected to  take  part  in  the  Christmas-eve 
festivities.  Among  these  was  a  certain  Miss 
Geoffrey.  Bob  sketched  her,  for  Tenter- 
den's  benefit  ("  Forewarned  is  forearmed,  you 
know !"),  under  a  shower  of  laughing  pro- 
tests from  his  mother  and  sister. 

According  to  Bob,  Miss  Judith  Geoffrey 
no 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       1 1  * 

was  a  young  thing  not  far  from  forty  ("  Oh, 
Bob  !"),  —  well,  thirty-nine,  then,  —  whose 
bright  black  eyes  had,  from  all  accounts,  been 
bewitching,  twenty  years  ago  ("  Robert ! 
Robert !") ;  indeed  it  was  no  secret  that  they 
subjugated,  at  about  that  prehistoric  period, 
"the  Pouter."  (Delighted  smile  from  Ten- 
terden.)  But  he,  finding  her  obdurate,  had 
married  her  cousin,  who  had  died  years  ago, 
leaving  one  child, — a  son.  In  fact,  there  were 
few  young  men  of  her  time,  in  the  county, 
who  had  not,  more  or  less,  succumbed  to  her 
fascinations. 

But  she  was  Miss  Geoffrey  still. 

The  ill-natured  whispered  that  this  was  be- 
cause a  certain  man  had  failed  to  come  to 
the  point.  However,  whether  from  disap- 
pointment or  from  inborn  tendencies,  Miss  G. 
had  come  to  be  one  of  those  women  who 
shed  unmerited  reproach  upon  the  name  and 
estate  of  "old  maid."  Her  once  bright 
black  eyes  had  grown  to  be  hard,  glitter- 


1 i 2        Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

ing,  restless  interrogation  points, — perpetually 
searching,  yet  never  finding  any  good  thing. 
Recognizing  the  fact  that  human  faculties 
were  limited,  and  that  no  one  mind  can  grasp 
all  things,  Miss  Judith  Geoffrey  had  learned 
to  confine  hers  to  meditation  upon  the  faults 
and  follies  of  her  friends,  and,  seizing  the  idea 
that  too  much  must  not  be  exacted  of  one 
poor  little  tongue,  she  had  long  since  re- 
stricted the  activity  of  hers  to  this  one  field. 

But  how  can  news  be  either  gathered  or 
spread  abroad,  if  one  be  not  up  and  a-doing  ? 
Her  mother's  carriage-horses  were  fat  and 
lazy ;  so  the  daughter  possessed  herself  of 
a  fiery  little  black  mare,  as  tireless  as  her 
own  tongue;  and,  mounted  upon  "Terma- 
gant," gathered  gossip  at  a  gallop,  and  dis- 
pensed it  for  miles  around. 

Matters  matrimonial  were  her  specialty, — 
and  it  was  roundly  asserted  that  she  had  dis- 
approved of  more  matches  than  anybody. 
If  a  swain  from  the  next  county  found  favor 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       i T  3 

in  the  eyes  of  a  daughter  of  one  of  her 
neighbors,  'twas  she  who  was  first  to  hear, 
for  example,  that  the  State  Insane  asylum 
was  populous  with  his  relatives.  And 
should  a  young  man  of  the  neighborhood 
seek  a  bride  elsewhere,  earliest  of  all  did 
her  thin  lips  raise  the  lament  that  he  should 
think  of  a  narrow-chested  girl,  all  whose 
narrow-chested  sisters  already  filled  con- 
sumptives' graves. 

She  was  to  be  met  at  all  social  reunions, — 
dread  of  her  tongue  standing  her  in  the  stead 
of  desire  of  her  society.  And  no  one  en- 
joyed these  festive  occasions  more  than  she, 
for  she  was  human — manly,  almost — in  her 
thorough  appreciation  of  the  solid  comforts 
of  life.  Yet  the  vigor  with  which  she  at- 
tacked the  dainties  in  which  she  delighted 
did  not,  in  the  least,  mar  the  perfection  of 
her  life-work.  For  so  nimble  was  her  well- 
trained  tongue,  that  it  knew  how,  even  from 
the  inopportune  loco  of  a  mouth  full  of 
A  10* 


1 H       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

chicken-salad,  to  shed  disastrous  criticism 
upon  the  hostess  who  had  compounded  it 

It  remains  but  to  add  that  she  was  known 
exclusively,  among  the  young  fellows  of  the 
vicinage,  by  the  nom  de  guerre  of  Mrs.  Geoff's 
Judy. 

"Oh,  I  don't  fear  the  redoubtable  Judy," 
laughed  Tenterden.  "  She  will  never  be  able 
to  find  out  anything  about  me  or  my  rela- 
tives !" 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that !"  said  Bob. 

"  To  genius  all  things  are  possible !"  added 
Bessie. 


XVII. 

THE  craunching  of  wheels  was  heard. 
Bob  went  to  the  window. 

"The  POUTER!" 

"  Mr.  Edmondson  is  one  of  our  most 
prized  neighbors,"  explained  Mrs.  Willis, 
with  all  the  gravity  she  could  muster. 

"  He  sets  great  store  by  some  of  us !"  said 
Bob,  looking  hard  at  his  sister ;  but  she,  busy 
with  her  work,  did  not  seem  to  hear.  So 
Bob  curvetted  across  the  room  with  puffed 
cheeks  and  inflated  chest;  and,  bringing  his 
lips  close  to  her  ear :  "  Coo !  Coo-oo !" 

Bessie  pushed  him  away,  half  amused,  half 
angry ;  and  he  hurried  out  to  meet  the  guest. 
A  capital  mimic,  thought  Tenterden. 

Back  rushed  Bob,  presently,  thrusting  his 
head  in  at  the  door: 

"I  say,  Bess,  he  has  brought  TOMMY!" 

"5 


i  6       6W#  //&*/  did  not  Glitter. 


"  Bob  is  perfectly  outrageous  !"  and  she 
swept  from  the  room. 

No  matter  how  absurd  the  admirer  of  a 
woman  may  be,  she  would  have  the  mo- 
nopoly of  laughing  at  him. 

"  Confound  the  old  chap  !"  thought  Ten- 
terden  ;  "  surely  she  can't  —  ah  —  like  him  ?" 

"  I  wonder,"  mused  Edmondson,  as  he 
climbed  down  from  his  groaning  buggy, 
"  what  kind  of  a  looking  fellow  is  that  long- 
legged  Englishman  that  I  hear  Bob  has 
picked  up?" 

The  hurrying  of  undisciplined  yet  confi- 
dent footsteps  was  heard  in  the  hall.  A  BOY 
invaded  the  parlor  :  "  How  d'ye  do,  Mrs. 
Willis?  How  d'ye  do,  sir?  You  are  the 
Englishman,  I  reckon.  I  don't  know  your 
name.  My  name  is  Tommy  Edmondson." 

"  And  mine  is  Tenterden,  at  your  service, 
Master  Tommy  !" 

"  I  am  glad  to  know  you,  Mr.  Tenterden  !" 

"  Thanks,  awfully.    I  reciprocate,  I'm  sure." 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       1 1 7 

Mrs.  Willis  looked  embarrassed.  Not 
so  Tommy  Edmondson.  Planting  himself 
squarely  in  front  of  Tenterden,  he  looked 
him  over  with  rapid  eye  and  startling  self- 
possession. 

His  father  made  a  companion  and  equal 
of  our  sturdy  young  friend,  and  took  him 
about  with  him  everywhere, — a  practice,  as 
some  suggested,  that  possibly  had  something 
to  do  with  his  chronic  difficulty  in  supplying 
the  late  Mrs.  Edmondson's  place.  Without 
doubt  Tommy  was,  as  a  specimen,  as  a  sam- 
ple, disquieting.  His  bold  eye,  his  ready 
initiative  in  conversation,  his  freckle-spangled 
nose,  that  tilted  so  high  its  flaunting  nostrils 
as  to  make  the  beholder  feel  himself  almost 
a  witness  of  the  operations  of  his  mind, — 
these  were  traits  not  likely  to  inspire  a 
longing  to  be  his  step-mother. 

Tommy  belonged  to  the  pervasive  species 
of  boy.  When  he  was  in  it,  the  largest 
house  was  choke-full  of  boy  from  garret  to 


1 1 8       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

cellar.  He  swarmed  over  the  stairs,  he 
leaned  out  of  every  window,  his  voice  was 
heard  in  the  halls  thereof.  And  his  fond 
parent,  by  incessantly  quoting  him,  multi- 
plied him  as  mirrors  do  an  audience.  Yet, 
far  from  being  a  bad  fellow,  could  he  but  be 
reduced  in  number.  A  cube  root  of  him 
had  been  tolerable. 

In  one  singular  regard  the  relations  be- 
tween himself  and  his  father  were  unique. 
Tommy  could  not  remember  his  mother, 
and  was  a  hearty  ally  of  his  surviving  parent 
in  his  various  attempts  to  find  her  successor : 
'  Darn  a  house  without  a  woman  in  it !'  was 
a  favorite  apothegm  of  this  philosopher  of 
thirteen  summers. 

They  freely  discussed  together  all  possible 
candidates;  and  Tommy,  an  admirer  of  the 
sex  at  large,  rarely  blackballed  any  of  his 
father's  nominees.  But  he  resolutely  drew 
the  line  at  Mrs.  Geoff's  Judy.  Whenever 
Mr.  Edmondson,  weary  of  his  fruitless  pur- 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       1 1 9 

suit  of  sweet  young  graduates,  showed  symp- 
toms of  returning  to  his  first  love :  "There  is 
not  a  house  in  the  United  States  big  enough 
to  hold  both  her  and  me,"  quoth  Tommy. 

"  Perhaps  she  would  not  take  me, 
Tommy !" 

"Take  you  ain't  the  word!  She'd  snap 
you  up  quicker'n  a  trout  would  a  minnow ; 
though  you  don't  look  much  like  a  minnow, 
do  you,  Pop?" 

Tommy  was  right,  if  humoristic  to  the 
verge  of  disrespect.  Mr.  E.  did  not  remind 
one  of  a  minnow.  To  draw  him  at  one 
stroke,  imagine  a  man  who  had  adjusted 
over  his  person,  at  the  junction  of  vest  and 
trousers,  a  mammoth  inverted  finger-bowl, 
as  it  were.  There  and  there  only  had  nature 
banked  up  the  adipose  tissue. 

This  involved  a  peculiarity  of  carriage 
which  gave  him  out  as  a  man  of  extreme 
hauteur;  whereas  the  honest  gentleman  was 
merely  obeying  the  laws  of  equilibrium. 


120       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

Poor  man,  he  was  hardly  on  cordial  terms 
even  with  his  own  coat ;  which,  resting  upon 
his  shoulders,  merely,  dangled  free  of  his 
back. 

It  remains  to  add  that  his  cheeks,  rosy 
and  shining,  stood  out  like  the  pouches  of  a 
ground-squirrel  when  stuffed  with  acorns. 

Such  were  Tommy  and  his  Pop, — the  first 
of  the  Christmas-eve  guests  to  arrive. 

A  light  step  was  heard  in  the  hall,  and 
Bessie  tripped  into  the  room,  a  vision  of 
youthful  grace  and  beauty. 

The  Pouter  bounded  from  his  chair ;  beam- 
ing, breezy,  impetuous  as  Romeo, — every 
inch  a  widower! 

Younger  than  youth  he  seemed, — lighter 
than  a  feather! 

"  Lordy,  just  look  at  Pop !" 

And,  after  a  burst  of  admiring  laughter, 
the  dreadful  boy  stood  close  against  the 
couple,  mouth  agape,  legs  wide-spread,  hands 
in  pockets, — drinking  in  every  word.  Under 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       x  2 1 

his  father's  vivacious  and  gallant  sallies  his 
big  mouth  seesawed  in  sympathy,  his  pert 
little  pug  nose  joyously  twinkling,  wrinkling, 
— diving,  at  times,  almost  out  of  sight  under 
the  freckles,  like  a  shore-crab  beneath  the 
sand.  Tommy  idolized  his  father.  Every 
neatly-turned  compliment  he  saluted  with  an 
applauding  grin ;  and  his  bright,  dancing 
eyes  said,  as  plainly  as  eyes  could,  "  This  is 
what  I  call  courting!" 

"The  Pouter  is  heavily  handicapped,"  re- 
joiced Tenterden. 

The  situation  was  strained.  Bessie  was 
on  thorns.  Her  face  tingled;  and,  at  last, 
glad  of  any  excuse,  she  rushed  madly  into 
the  hall,  and  imprinted  an  effusive  kiss  upon 
the  cold  and  bitter  lips  of  Mrs.  Geoff's  Judy. 


XVIII. 

IT  was  nine  o'clock.  The  expected  guests 
had  all  come.  It  was  time  to  begin  the  egg- 
nog;  and  the  little  party  rose  merrily,  to 
betake  themselves  to  the  dining-room, — Mr. 
Edmondson  and  Bessie  in  the  van. 

There  are  widowers  and  widowers. 

This  one  makes  frequent  and  lachrymose 
allusions  to  the  late  Jemima,  poor  thing! 
To  sympathizing  ears  he  pours  out  his  grief, 
in  retired  nooks,  on  secluded  sofa.  And 
poor,  poor,  little  Gladys,  darling  lamb, 
must  grow  up,  alas,  without  a  mother's 
care! 

To  widows,  to  maids  long  since  bereft  of 
hope,  to  the  plain  sisters  who  never  nourished 
any,  pipes  he  his  sad  refrain. 

He  is  hurt — shocked — at  the  merest  hint 
that  the  sea  is  big,  and  not  without  fishes 

122 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       I23 

still.  Poor,  poor  Jemima !  Ah,  never,  never, 
never  more! 

Trust  him  not,  sad-eyed  grandmother  of 
little  Gladys !  Your  bereaved  son-in-law  is 
already  peeping  forth  wistfully,  through  his 
tears.  He  belongs  to  the  still-hunting  class 
of  inconsolables, — using  the  dear  departed  as 
a  stalking  horse.  Sad — that  her  recent  de- 
mise should  mar  the  hilarity  of  his  coming 
nuptials ! 

Far  other  was  our  rotund  friend,  Tommy's 
Pop.  No  still-hunter,  he;  no  wary  wolf 
darkly  stealing  upon  the  unsuspecting  fold, 
the  sweetly-bleating  ewe  lambs.  Compara- 
ble, rather,  to  the  bereaved  dominie, — swiftest 
of  mortals  to  seek  consolation;  or  to  the 
meteoric  hawk, — dropping  from  the  clouds, 
— and  loud  is  the  cackle  of  pullet  and  of 
hen! 

Yes,  Pop  was  a  marrying  man.  His  con- 
tempt for  single-blessedness  was  even  boister- 
ous. He  wanted  a  wife.  Tommy  wanted 


1 2  4       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

him  to  have  a  wife.  And  a  wife  he  would 
have. 

He  was  absurd,  if  you  will.  But  he  was 
not  a  fraud. 

Tenterden  smiled,  beholding  the  springi- 
ness of  his  step,  his  jaunty  carriage,  the 
cajoleries  of  his  widowed  eye,  as  he  escorted 
Bessie  to  the  dining-room.  It  made  him 
feel  old,  the  ruddy  smile  of  this  amazingly 
youthful  rival. 

"  Coo-oo !"  breathed  Bob  into  his  ear. 

And  Mrs.  Geoff's  Judy,  turning,  gave  the 
two  young  men  a  look  of  grim  wonder. 
How  could  people  laugh  in  a  world  where  a 
fat  old  fool  was  permitted  to  make  love  to  a 
silly  young  girl ! 

Have  you  forgotten,  Judy,  that  you  too 
once  were  young  and  silly?  Or  do  you 
remember  it  only  too  well? 


XIX. 

UPON  the  table  a  pyramid  of  snowy  eggs 
in  a  trim  basket;  a  great  ancestral  bowl;  a 
broad  blue-china  dish.  And,  upon  the  side- 
board, a  jug  of  cream  and  a  bottle  or  so. 

"  Ah,"  cooed  the  Pouter,  rubbing  his  hands, 
rocking  gently  from  heel  to  toe,  and  flashing 
upon  the  company  a  smile  rubicund  and 
cheery. 

"  Pop  knows  what's  good !"  ejaculated  in- 
numerable Tommy,  caressing  his  parent  with 
an  admiring  glance. 

Bessie  now  disappeared  into  the  pantry, 
and  presently  emerged,  smiling,  and  veiled  in 
an  apron  from  chin  to  ankle. 

Intellectual  maidens  are  constantly  up- 
braiding us  men  because  we  do  not  know, 
poor  things,  what  kind  of  a  girl  we  want.  It 
is  so  silly  of  us,  they  justly  urge,  to  go  mad 
n*  125 


126       Gold  tJiat  did  not  Glitter. 

over  rosy  cheek,  merry  eye,  dimpling  smile, 
trim  ankle.  Fading  flowers  these, — while 
culture-talk  would  go  on  forever!  I  am  at 
my  wit's  end,  therefore,  trying  to  find  an  ex- 
cuse for  the  young  Britisher.  When  he  saw 
Bessie  briskly  bustling  about  the  table,  the 
light  of  hospitable  zeal  upon  her  sweet  face, 
and  that  darling  apron  (the  great,  silly  six- 
footer!)  trying  its  best,  and  in  vain,  to  hide 
the  undulating  perfections  of  her  supple 
figure 

And  she,  poor  girl,  had  put  on  her  best 
dress,  that  evening!  It  had  been  her  best 
for  ever  so  long !  But  it  tvas  her  best, — and 
she  was  chagrined  to  have  to  hide  it,  even 
for  a  time 

Virgins,  ye  know  not  the  day  nor  the 
hour! 

"  What  a  womanly  air  it  gives  her,  that 
blessed  apron, — smooth,  cool,  shining,  freshly 
ironed !  [Pooh-pooh !  to  thee,  degenerate 
son  of  Albion !]  How  she  would  grace  a 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       127 

house  of  her  own!  Ah  me,  if  only — how 
that  old  idiot  smirks !  How  neatly  she 
cracks  the  shells  upon  the  rim !  [sic  /]  What 
a  little  house-keeper  she  would  make !  What 
a  home !  I  wish  she  would  wear  it  always  ! 
Damn  that  Pouter!"  [Oh,  fie!] 

For  Bessie  had  just  put  that  gentleman  in 
charge  of  the  broad  dish.  He,  being  an  ac- 
knowledged adept  in  making  eggnog,  was  to 
beat  the  whites,  she  undertaking  the  yolks  in 
the  big  bowl. 

Before  striking  a  blow,  she  tucked  up  the 
sleeve  of  her  best  dress  above  the  elbow. 
And  in  an  instant  the  poor  apron  was  for- 
gotten !  And  no  wonder !  That  arm,  snowy, 
smooth,  creamy-soft, — its  plumpness  sud- 
denly shrinking  into  a  round,  blue-veined 
wrist !  And  that  firm  little  fist,  grasping  the 
spoon,  and  making  merriest  muffled  clatter 
among  the  golden  yolks  !  And  those  mobile 
lips  pursed  up  into  daintiest  pucker  of  house- 
wifely zeal !  Like  crumpled  rose-petals ! 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 


And  first  the  fair  head  dropped  on  this 
shoulder,  and  then  on  that,  as  she  bent  her- 
self to  her  task;  and  the  yellow  foam  rose 
higher  and  higher,  above  the  rhythmic 
splutter  of  the  spoon.  And  sometimes  she 
steadied  her  resolution  by  pressing  beneath 
snowy  teeth  that  saucy  rosebud  of  an  under 
lip! 

And  more  than  once  there  came,  from  very 
earnestness,  the  prettiest  little  frown,  that 
drew  together  her  brows  above  the  azure  of 
her  eyes,  —  like  two  pencilled  clouds  above 
bits  of  sky. 

And  every  now  and  then,  to  her  com- 
panion in  the  merry  toil,  a  sociable,  encour- 
aging smile,  —  as  though  she  asked,  "  How  are 
you  getting  on?" 

The  Pouter  beamed  ! 

At  last,  "Look!"  cried  he. 

"Oh,  don't  try  that  to-night!"  Pleaded 
she;  "it  might  -  " 

But,  grasping  his  dish  at  either  end,  the 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       J  29 

Marrying  Man,  with  a  quick  motion  of  his 
wrists,  inverted  it.  There  was  a  pretty  little 
shriek  from  the  ladies,  followed  by  murmurs 
of  applause,  as  they  saw  the  snowy  peaks  of 
the  mimic  mountains  pointing  downward  yet 
holding  fast.  He  did  that  every  Christmas- 
eve,  and  always  under  protest, — for  once 
there  had  been  an  avalanche  upon  the  table. 

The  Pouter  replaced  the  dish  upon  the 
table,  with  a  bow  and  a  smile  of  modest 
triumph. 

"  I  tell  you  what,"  burst  out  Tommy,  with 
conviction,  and  glancing  up  at  Bessie,  "  when 
it  comes  to  beating  up  eggs,  Pop's  a  honey- 
cooler  !" 

A  universal  shout  of  laughter  greeted  this 
enigmatical  panegyric.  Even  grim  Judy 
smiled.  As  for  Bessie,  she  let  drop  her 
spoon  among  the  frothing  yolks,  while  tears 
of  merriment  bedewed  her  flushing  cheeks. 
For  it  was  obvious  to  her,  as  to  all,  that  poor 
Tommy  was  pleading  his  father's  cause. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 


"A  what!"  gasped  the  Englishman. 

Bob  threw  up  his  hands  in  despair.  His 
ribs  were  shaking  so  that  he  could  not  ex- 
plain that  this  pet  expression  marked  the 
high  tide  of  Tommy's  approval,  —  the  foam 
on  the  crest  of  the  wave  of  his  admiration. 

"  You  must  not  use  slang,  Tommy,"  re- 
plied the  fond  parent,  patting  his  offspring's 
shaggy  crown. 

"  Do  you  know,  Bessie,"  remarked  Mrs. 
Geoff's  Judy,  in  a  stage-whisper  illustrated 
by  a  galvanic  smile,  "  I  heard  Tommy  apply 
that  same  droll  epithet  to  you,  as  he  and  his 
father  came  out  of  church,  last  Sunday? 
How  nice  that  he  should  think  his  father  and 
yourself  a  pair  of  —  what  was  it  ?" 

"  Oh,  very  !"  replied  Bess,  damming  up, 
with  an  adverb,  a  sudden  tide  of  wrath. 

It  was  now  time  to  mix  in  the  sugar,  —  a 
spoonful  to  each  egg.  Bessie  stirred,  while 
a  fair  young  neighbor  (fairer  even,  Bob 
thought,  than  Bess.  Brothers  are  often  so 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       J  3 J 

impartial !)  agitated  a  spoon  above  the  deep 
bowl.  Everybody  has  to  help  make  eggnog. 
Bessie's  spoon  grew  heavier  each  moment: 

"  Oh,"  cried  she,  gracefully  collapsing, 
with  a  look  of  plaintive  fatigue, — "ah,  you 
want  your  lesson,  now  ?  Take  the  spoon 
and  let  us  see  what  you  can  do !" 

But  how  was  he  to  take  it?  She  could 
not  lay  the  spoon  down,  for  its  bowl  was 
covered  with  the  sugared  yolk;  the  handle 
she  grasped  in  that  dimpled  little  fist. 

"  There  /"  said  she,  withdrawing  her  hand 
from  within  his  with  a  rosy,  apologetic  little 
smile, — as  though  she  said,  There  was  no 
other  way ! 

Tenterden  liked  the  way  well  enough. 
When  that  soft  little  hand,  smooth  as  satin, 
glided  from  within  his  grasp,  releasing  to  him 
the  spoon 

With  a  few  laughing  directions,  Tenterden 
was  not  long  in  getting  the  hang  of  the 
thing.  Then  his  rival  began  slowly  the 


I32       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

transfer  of  the  contents  of  his  dish  into  Ten- 
terden's  bowl.  Then  the  cream,  followed  by 
the  cognac ;  poured  in,  each,  in  a  delicate, 
trickling  stream.  Then  a  gill  of  the  won- 
derful "  old  peach,"  redolent  of  the  orchard. 
And,  over  all,  the  brown  dust  of  nutmeg. 

The  eggnog  is  done, — and  upon  the  air  a 
comforting  harmony  of  savors  floats ! 

The  Pouter  had  for  years  acted  as  master 
of  ceremonies  during  these  Christmas-eve 
frolics  at  The  Cedars.  As  I  have  poked  a 
little  fun  at  him,  it  is  only  fair  to  say  that  a 
kindlier  man  or  a  truer  gentleman  it  would 
be  hard  to  find.  Though  his  waste  of  waist 
did  make  him  stand  at  some  distance  from 
the  bowl,  he  presided  over  it  with  graceful 
hospitality  and  a  charming  warmth  of  man- 
ner. His  bow  and  his  smile,  as  he  ladled  out 
the  nectar  to  his  rival,  and  his  few  quiet  but 
cordial  words  of  welcome  to  the  county,  over 
their  chinked  glasses,  quite  won  the  young 
Englishman. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       133 

"  How  do  you  like  it  ?"  asked  Bessie,  see- 
ing him  approach  the  corner  where  she  stood. 
"Wretched,  don't  you  think  so?" 

"  On  the  contrary,  it  is  delicious !" 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  like  it !  At  any  rate, 
it  is  good  fun  to  make  it." 

"The  beverage  itself,"  replied  he,  tapping 
his  glass,  "  is  delicious, — but  making  it  was — 
heavenly !" 

Bessie  flushed — just  a  little.  Oh,  they 
know ! 


XX. 

THE  winter  passed  swiftly  away.  When 
spring  came,  Tenterden  was  to  fall  to,  under 
Professor  Bob.  Meantime,  he  was  a  sort  of 
a  professor  himself.  He  was  a  fair  pianist ; 
and,  hanging  idly  about  the  house,  while  the 
cold  winds  whistled  over  the  fields,  it  had 
been  selfish  not  to  have  offered  to  help 
Bessie  with  her  music. 

Selfish!  Not  he!  On  the  contrary,  he 
was  ever  so  kind.  He  gave  Bessie  a  lesson 
every  day.  In  one  respect  he  showed,  for  so 
young  a  professor,  judgment  of  a  high  order. 
He  did  not,  as  the  injudicious  do,  insist  on 
his  lovely  pupil  wearing  out  her  rosy  little 
fingers,  thumping,  thumping,  unceasingly. 
He  gave  her  many  little  breathing  spells, 
allowing  talk, — which  is,  to  a  young  woman, 
I  understand,  a  form  of  rest. 
134 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       135 

Sometimes  Mrs.  Willis  would  think,  as  she 
sat  in  her  room,  sewing,  that  the  lesson  had 
been  over,  half  an  hour;  when,  suddenly,  a 
chord  would  burst  upon  her  ear. 

"  Why  don't  you  let  poor  Mr.  Tenterden 
give  you  the  lesson  and  be  done  with  it?" 

"  Oh,  he  has  to  explain,  you  know !  I  am 
sure  he  must  think  me  awfully  stupid." 

"  I  dare  say,"  said  Bob.  "  At  any  rate,  it 
takes  you  two  hours,  sometimes,  to  under- 
stand a  few  bars.  Explaining  the  theory, 
no  doubt." 

"  The  theory  of  what  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Willis, 
half  smiling,  as  she  took  aim  at  the  eye  of  a 
needle. 

"  Upon  my  word,  mother,  nothing  of  the 
kind  goes  on.  He  never  talks  any — non- 
sense— not  one  word, — honestly,  Bob!" 

"All  right,  Elizabeth!  You  ought  to 
know.  Perhaps  he  does  not  talk  any  non- 
sense; but  he  looks  lots  of  it."  Whereupon, 
Bob,  heaving  a  portentous  sigh,  cast  upon 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 


his  sister  the  dismal  glance  of  a  despairing 
lover. 

"  Poor,  silly,  old  Bob  !"  exclaimed  Bessie, 
pouncing  down  upon  the  offender  and  cruelly 
pinching  his  cheeks,  then  sealing  his  forgive- 
ness with  inarticulate  murmur  of  laughing 
yum-yums. 

There  are  ways  and  ways  of  being  silly 
old  Bobs! 

Fibbing  on  certain  points  is  the  inalienable 
right  of  woman.  But  what  Bessie  had  said 
was,  in  a  literal  sense,  at  least,  quite  true. 
So  far  as  mere  words  went,  the  young  Eng- 
lishman had  not  talked  any  "  nonsense." 
Why,  I  know  not;  for  I  am  not  of  the 
omniscient  school.  But  it  did  not  matter. 
She  knew  and  rejoiced.  Perhaps  she  might 
have  preferred  the  spoken  words.  But  even 
silence  may  be  eloquent. 

Not  English  is  needed,  nor  French;  nor, 
lingo  of  love,  Italian  ;  impotent  devices,  all  ! 
For,  in  the  young  days  of  old,  the  warm 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       I37 

waves  of  the  ^Egean,  wondering  at  their 
lovely  burden,  bore  foam-born  Venus  to  the 
shore.  And  she,  lying,  rosy,  upon  the 
golden  sands  (for  sofas  were  not),  smiled 
when  wooing  zephyrs  came  and  toyed  with 
her  wondrous  hair, — smiled  when  the  saucy 
wavelets,  creeping  up  a-tiptoe,  beat,  creamy- 
soft,  against  her  infinite  perfections ! 

And,  dimpling,  she  beckoned  to  her  side 
(for  Satan,  even  then,  had  mischief  for  idle 
hands  to  do) — beckoned  to  her  side  the 
nightingale,  and  taught  him  how  to  trill; 
taught  the  turtle-dove  to  make  moan ;  whis- 
pered to  young  men  and  maidens  the  sweet 
mystery  of  sighs,  of  starts,  of  eloquent  eyes, 
— of  tell-tale  cheek,  of  snowy,  quick-beating 
bosom ;  revealed  the  universal  language — 
the  volapiik  of  love ! 


12* 


XXI. 

FEW  occupations  afford  such  endless  oppor- 
tunities for  falling  in  love  as  that  of  amateur 
professor  of  music.  It  is  through  the  eyes, 
for  the  most  part,  that  the  poison  enters,  as  is 
well  known;  and  what  better  chance  could  one 
have  of  feasting  them  unobserved !  Tenter- 
den  is  entitled  to  our  sympathy,  such  as  it  is : 

The  lissome  figure  before  him,  swaying  now 
to  the  right,  now  to  the  left ;  the  cunning 
fingers  scampering  in  mad  frolic,  up  and 
down,  or  else  clinging  lovingly  to  loving 
tones ;  the  fair  young  head  bent  forward, 
now  in  earnest  scrutiny,  now  thrown  back  in 
half-disdainful  triumph ;  the  blue  eyes  at  one 
time  darkening  in  sympathy  with  the  fervid 
majesty  of  the  song, — again,  rapt,  dreamy, 
sweetly  disconsolate,  dissolved  in  tuneful 
woe! 
138 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       J  39 

And  if,  sometimes,  she  would  turn  and  face 
him,  pouting  and  reproachful,  her  hands 
fallen  despairingly  in  her  lap,  and  demand  in 
pitifullest  accents,  how  could  he  expect  her  to 
make  that  horrid  run, — could  a  professor  do 
other  than  show  her  the  fingering?  And, 
even  though  she  leaned  over,  ever  so  far,  to 
give  him  room  while  he  struck  the  notes, 
how  was  she  to  get  entirely  away  from  his 
shoulder  ? — You  forget  how  very  broad  they 
were.  And  if  his  left  hand  sprang  an  octave 
downward,  looking  for  the  base,  must  she 
not  raise  her  round  arm  out  of  his  way  ? 
And  what  was  there,  then,  to  protect  her 
waist  from  the  transient  pressure  of  his  bash- 
ful wrist?  Upbraid  the  composer,  rather, 
who  wrote  the  music  that  way. 

But  how  on  earth  was  she,  bending  farther 
and  farther  away  from  him,  how  was  she  to 
see  what  his  fingers  were  doing?  But  he 
was  patient  and  good,  and  showed  her,  again 
and  again,  without  one  scolding  word.  Once, 


140       Gold  tJiat  did  not  Glitter. 

indeed,  he  did  seize  a  wayward,  cantankerous 
finger,  that  would  persist  in  striking  all  awry, 
— did  seize  the  giddy  little  thing,  and  bend 
it  down  on  B  flat — there! — but  he  said  it 
more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger. 

And  she,  letting  fall  her  right  hand  list- 
lessly by  her  side,  and  with  her  left  elbow 
resting  upon  the  piano — propping  upon  her 
thumb  her  saucy  chin,  raised  her  eyes  to 
his :  "  Don't  you  think  I  am  the  stupidest 
girl  in  the  world?" 

And  the  warm,  fragrant  breath,  bearing 
upward  the  soft  words  from  dewy  lips, 
floated  about  him — an  intoxicating  mist! 


XXII. 

THE  winter  that  was  now  past  had  been 
one  of  unalloyed  happiness  to  Tenterden. 
He  had  come  to  Virginia  with  no  fixed  in- 
tentions. Mere  restlessness  and  a  strong 
liking  for  Bob  had  been  his  sole  motives. 
But  he  had  found  a  charming  home. 

The  neighbors,  too,  had  been  kind.  He 
knew  them  all  for  miles  around.  There  had 
been  many  unpretentious  but  jolly  dinners, 
some  dances,  and  eggnoggings  galore ;  at  all 
of  which  he  had  been  made  to  feel  entirely 
welcome.  And  nowhere  did  he  feel  more  at 
home  than  under  the  roof  of  his  rival,  Mr. 
Edmondson,  whom — simply  for  the  innocent 
entertainment  of  the  reader,  and  without  the 
least  satiric  intent — I  have  dubbed  The 
Pouter.  True,  Edmondson  did  not  know,  as 
the  reader  and  I  do  so  well,  that  the  young 

MI 


J42       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

Englishman  had  fallen  a  victim  to  Bessie's 
fascinations;  only,  he  could  not  see  how  he 
could  possibly  have  avoided  it.  At  any  rate, 
he  felt,  instinctively,  that  he  had  in  Tenterden 
a  formidable  rival. 

But  Edmondson  was  such  a  good  fellow, 
and  was,  moreover,  so  impenetrated,  to  his 
very  marrow,  with  the  spirit  of  hospitality, 
that,  when  once  a  man  was  under  his  vine 
and  fig-tree,  he,  like  an  Arab  whose  salt  you 
have  tasted,  forgot  all  causes  of  resentment. 
In  Tenterden's  favor,  too,  he  had  to  admit 
that,  if  he  were  a  rival,  he  was  a  magnani- 
mous one.  For  whenever  The  Pouter  called 
at  The  Cedars  he  had  a  free  field.  If  he  had 
dreadfully  few  tete-a-tetes,  it  was  due  simply 
to  the  perversity  of  the  adored  one.  So 
much  impressed,  in  fact,  was  our  jovial  lover 
by  the  chivalry  of  his  rival  that  he  often  as- 
sured Tommy  that,  if  he  was  to  lose  the  game, 
it  would  be  a  sort  of  satisfaction  to  him 
that  the  Englishman  should  be  the  winner. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 


"  He  is  a  perfectly  square  man,  Tommy  !" 

"  And  you  are  perfectly  round,  Pop  !  Ho  ! 
ho!  ho!" 

"  H'm  !"  said  the  lover,  leaning  over  for 
a  peep  at  the  toes  of  his  boots,  "  I  was 
speaking  metaphorically." 

"What's  that?" 


XXIII. 

BUT  this  happy  winter  was  gone, — with 
its  bright  breakfasts  and  cosey  dinners,  its 
snug  readings-aloud  during  the  long  even- 
ings, its  daily  music  lesson. 

There  came — and  we  have  so  few  of  them 
— there  came  a  perfect  spring  day.  The 
young  Englishman  rode  to  the  post-office. 

It  has  come,  what  he  had  expected,  a  roll 
of  music  from  Schirmer's, — some  arrange- 
ments for  four  hands.  Bessie  had  had  none. 
Thanking  the  postmaster  most  graciously, 
and  springing  upon  his  horse,  he  bounded 
off  at  a  gallop. 

But  soon  the  balmy  down-pour  of  delicious 
warmth  overcame  both  steed  and  rider,  and 
with  slackened  rein  they  crept  along  at  a 
walk.  'Twas  not  a  day  to  hurry  through. 

The  soft  breath  of  the  south  caressed  his 
144 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       J45 

hair,  played  about  his  moist  brow,  eddied 
around  him,  fraught  with  the  intermingled 
odors  of  flowering  mead,  of  upturned  soil, 
of  awakening  wood, — laden  with  the  love- 
calls  of  birds,  the  hum  of  insects,  the  pebbly 
murmur  of  brooks  released  from  their  bonds. 
And  over  the  broad,  green  wheat-fields  there 
danced  and  quivered  a  golden  haze.  And 
above,  there  floated,  here  and  there,  a  speck 
of  fleecy  cloud, — all  else  an  abyss  of  blue. 

'Tis  the  very  color  of  her  eyes ! 

His   horse   fell   a-munching    the   roadside 
grass. 

A  mocking-bird  zigzagged  past  him,  beat- 
ing the  balmy  air  with  capricious,  disdainful 
wing,  proclaiming,  the  while,  in  full-throated 
frenzy,  the  cruel  perfections  of  his  lady-love; 
while  she,  demure  Miss,  trim  in  her  suit  of 
modest  gray,  coyly  peeping  forth  from  em- 
bowered shade,  marvels  at  his  antics,  and 
wonders  how  long  she  can  hold  out  against 
the  witchery  of  his  brave  song. 
G  k  13 


1 46       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

Faint    heart    never   won   fair    lady.      He 
tightened  the  rein. 

An  unseen  turtle-doye  tells  of  his  love  to 
all  the  cool  and  fragrant  wood! 

"  Shall  I  alone  be  silent  ?"  With  a  quick 
pull  upon  the  bridle  he  leaned  forward,  and 
soon  was  cantering  up  the  well-shaded  road. 
Hearing  that  Bessie  was  in  the  orchard,  he 
hurried  in  that  direction,  brandishing  the  roll 
of  music  in  triumph.  But  when  he  came  sud- 
denly upon  her,  he  stopped,  spellbound. 
•  Never  fairer  vision  dazzled  the  eyes  of 
enamoured  swain,  never  pearl  had  fairer  set- 
ting. Plunged  in  a  deep  revery,  she  had  not 
heard  his  approaching  footstep.  Clad  in  a 
dress  of  summer  stuff,  flecked  with  blue 
upon  a  white  ground,  she  sat,  or,  rather, 
reclined  upon  a  rustic  bench,  in  gracefullest 
abandon  of  indolent  repose.  Above  her  a 
peach-tree  spread  its  branches,  the  vivid, 
tender  green  of  its  budding  leaves  smothered 
in  dense  masses  of  fragrant  blossoms. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 


In  such  rosy  bower  the  very  goddess  of 
love  herself  might  well  have  reclined  content. 

And  the  fair  maid,  with  sunny  head  resting 
against  the  trunk,  saw  not  the  wealth  of  shel- 
tering bloom,  heard  not  the  hum  of  the  in- 
numerable bees,  marked  not  the  delicate 
odors  that  floated  past.  Her  form  lay  there 
in  all  its  loveliness  ;  but  her  spirit  was  afar,  — 
revelling  in  the  land  of  love's  young  dreams. 

And  upon  her  upturned  face,  the  light  of 
heaven,  struggling  through  the  incense- 
breathing  petals,  sifted  down  in  a  rosy  mist. 

And  every  now  and  then,  a  silly  young 
bee  (out,  to-day,  for  the  first  time,  perhaps) 
darts  down  and  buzzes,  for  a  moment,  about 
the  fair  dreamer  (mistaking  cheeks  for  roses, 
stray  ringlet  for  nodding  jonquil,  or  vainly 
imagining  the  breath  of  violets),  then  bustles 
away  on  disconcerted  wing! 

Not  Cnidos,  nor  Paphos,  hardly  beloved 
Cythera,  ever  bore,  on  beds  of  amaranth, 
lovelier  burden  ! 


XXIV. 

THIS  very  day,  while  Mr.  Edmondson  and 
Tommy  were  at  dinner,  their  two  setters 
rushed,  barking,  towards  the  gate.  Tommy 
hurried  out.  Spring,  which  brings  back  to 
us  the  birds  and  the  flowers,  had  caused  to 
pass  along  the  county  road,  on  their  way 
through  the  country,  a  band  of  Italian  musi- 
cians, who,  liking  the  look  of  things,  had 
turned  in  at  the  gate.  And  when  Mr.  Ed- 
mondson, overcome  by  curiosity,  had  found 
his  way  to  the  front  door,  napkin  in  hand, 
he  saw  the  party  tramping,  dusty  and  foot- 
sore, up  the  gravelled  walk,  convoyed  by 
Tommy.  Our  active  young  friend  had  his 
hands  full,  or,  to  put  it  differently,  was  kick- 
ing the  soles  off  his  boots,  as,  black  in  the 
face  and  hoarse  with  shouting,  he  scurried 
round  and  round  the  pilgrims ;  landing  a 
148 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       1 49 

blow,  now  on  Carlo's  eager  jaw,  now  on 
Beppo's  resounding  ribs.  For  race-prejudice 
is  not  confined  to  men ;  and  these  two  hand- 
some brutes,  rested  from  the  hunting-season, 
were  for  making  game  of  the  foreigners, — 
willing  to  nip  the  calf  of  a  fiddler,  glad  to 
pin  the  youngster  with  the  cymbals.  It 
would  be  something,  even  to  imprint  a  mono- 
gram on  the  seat  of  the  clarionet's  trousers. 
The  voice  of  the  master  brought  them  to 
a  sense  of  how  they  were  tarnishing  Vir- 
ginia's good  name;  and  they  crouched, 
penitent,  at  his  feet.  He,  anxious  to  make 
amends,  begged  the  minstrels  to  come  up 
on  the  porch ;  but  the  leader  declined,  on 
account  of  their  soiled  and  travel-stained 
condition.  Clustering  under  a  big  sycamore, 
they  were  briskly  furnished,  by  a  brigade 
under  Tommy's  command,  with  chairs,  water 
fresh  from  the  well,  towels,  clothes-brushes. 
After  a  hearty  meal,  they  were  supplied  with 
tobacco,  which  they  peacefully  smoked,  sur- 


1 5°       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

rounded  by  an  admiring  audience,  who,  with 
mouths  agape,  gazed  in  wonder  upon  the 
strange  instruments.  The  harp  was  a  sort 
of  lion. 

"  Blessed  if  dat  fiddle  ain't  got  more'n  a 
hundud  strings !"  whispered  one. 

"  Hukkum  you  know  dat  a  fiddle  ?  Whar 
de  bow  ?  I  ax  you  dat !" 

"  Harp  ?  Who  dat  say  'twas  a  harp  ? 
Marse  Jimmy  ?  Oh,  he  know  !" 

"Harp?"  cried  an  old  woman,  in  an  ex- 
cited voice ;  "  git  out  o'  de  way  an'  lemme 
look  good !  Sure  'nough !  Well,  I  neber 
did  hope  to  see  a  harp  in  dis  life.  When  I 
got  'ligion  and  seed  de  glory  of  de  throne, 
all  de  angels  was  a-settin'  roun'  a-playin'  of 
jess  sich,  but  I  neber  did  hope  to  set  eyes  on 
de  like,  here  below." 

But  the  violoncello  excited  a  feeling  of 
amazed  incredulity.  How  could  mortal  man 
play  on  such  a  fiddle, — especially  such  a 
little  fellow :  "  Nemmind ;  you  jess  wait 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       J  5 r 

Bound  he  ain't  tote  sich  a  insterment  roun' 
for  nothin'." 

Whenever  one  of  the  Italians  spoke,  there 
was  a  universal  ducking  of  heads,  with 
smothered  laughter, — but  without  discour- 
tesy. It  was  merely  childish  delight  in  the 
talk  as  part  of  the  show. 

"  Buono  tobacco,  questo  !" 

"  I  hear  him  say  'baccer,  jess  as  plain !" 

"  An'  I  hear  him  say  bones.  Boun'  he  got 
'em  in  he  pocket!" 

Tommy,  bold  Tommy,  ventured,  at  last, 
out  of  the  fringe  of  audience,  and,  approach- 
ing the  harp,  looked  it  over  narrowly. 

"  You  play  ?"  asked  the  harper,  smiling. 

"  Oh,  no !"  cried  Tommy,  drawing  back, 
amid  the  subdued  gurgling  of  the  fringe. 

"  Oh,  yes,  come !"  And  taking  the 
bashful  forefinger  of  the  blushing  lad,  the 
harpist  began  to  pluck  the  air  of  "  Dixie" 
from  the  strings,  amid  billowing  roars  of 
delight. 


152       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

Until  we  have  forgotten  how  to  laugh,  life 
is  worth  living. 

The  band  began  to  play. 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  picture  the  delight, 
the  bliss  of  the  simple  auditors,  nor  the 
charm  of  their  unaffected  ways  of  exhibiting 
it.  The  master  sat  upon  his  broad  porch, 
purring  away  at  his  pipe,  he,  too,  enjoying 
both  the  music  and  the  scene.  Presently  the 
minstrels  passed  from  the  martial  strains 
of  a  march  to  a  more  sentimental  discourse 
of  sweet  sounds.  The  Pouter's  eyes  grew 
dreamy.  His  pipe  went  out.  The  strain 
ceased. 

"  Tommy !" 

The  irrepressible  youngster  bounded  up  the 
steps.  His  father,  passing  his  arm  around 
his  shoulder,  began  walking  up  and  down. 

"Tommy,  I  have  a  little  scheme.  Sup- 
pose we  keep  the  band  here  and  give  her  a 
serenade  to-night — h'm?  How  does  that 
strike  you  ? 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       153 

"  Serenade  Miss  Bessie  ?  Splendid !  And 
I  say,  Pop,  won't  we  get  the  bulge  on  Legs  ?" 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  Tenterden's 
lower  limbs  were  abnormal.  He  was  a  well- 
made  six-footer;  that  was  all.  Tommy's 
nickname  was  merely  a  symptom  of  the 
aggressive  loyalty  of  the  lad.  His  father's 
supports  were  short,  and  had  the  air,  accord- 
ing to  a  mot  of  Mrs.  Geoff's  Judy,  of  tooth- 
picks sustaining  an  orange.  (But  those  who 
heard  this  speech  thought  of  sour  grapes.) 
To  Tommy  he  was  the  best  of  fathers,  and 
without  blemish.  I  am  sure  the  honest 
fellow  would  have  backed  "  the  governor"  in 
a  foot-race,  to  the  extent  of  his  exchequer. 
In  his  eyes,  to  differ  from  Pop  was  to  lack  a 
perfection. 

"  You  mean  Tenterden  ?"  asked  "  the  gov- 
ernor," with  sudden  gravity.  "  You  don't 
think,  Tommy,  that  he — h'm?"  And  he 
jerked  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder  in  the 
direction  of  The  Cedars. 


154       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  After  her !  Of  course  he  is,  Pop !  You 
should  see  him  mooning  around !  But  I  say, 
Pop,  I  think  you  have  been  fooling  around 
long  enough,  sending  me  over  with  partridges 
and  bouquets  and  things.  My  advice  to  you 
is  to  pitch  in,  right  away ;  or  Legs  will  get 
the  bulge  on  us/" 

"Pitch  in,  you  say?" 

"  Why,  yes  ;  pop  the  question,  Pop !" 

With  that  they  both  shouted  with  laughter ; 
and  small  wonder. 

"  I'll  do  it,  Tommy ;  I'll  pop  the  question 
— ha,  ha,  ha! — to-morrow.  Not  a  day 
later!" 

"  Good !  You'll  get  the  bulge  on  Legs. 
Faint  heart  never  won  fair  lady !"  added  he, 
drawing  freely  on  his  literary  fund. 

"  Good,  my  son  ;  excellent !" 

"  Right  after  the  serenade, — strike  while 
the  iron  is  hot,"  rejoined  the  lad,  tapping  his 
accumulations  of  wisdom. 

"  Good    again !"   thundered    the    exultant 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       J55 

parent,  bringing  down  on  Tommy's  shaggy 
head  an  applauding  palm. 

"  Look  out,  Pop,  that  hand  is  heavy !" 

"  You  are  in  a  hurry  to  see  a  pretty  little 
mumma  installed  at  the  head  of  the  table  ?" 

"And  you  want  to  install  her,  don't  you, 
Pop !" 

"  Fact,  Tommy,  fact, — you  impudent  rascal, 
— ha,  ha,  ha!" 

"  Hold  on,  Pop ;  my  ear  ain't  made  of 
leather !" 

"  I  am  holding  on,  ha,  ha,  ha !  But  we 
shall  get  the  bulge  on  Legs !  Ho,  ho,  ho !" 

Vain  exultation !  Let  me  wave  my  seer's 
wand,  and  reveal  a  scene  at  this  very  moment 
enacting  in  the  parlor  at  The  Cedars. 

It  looks  very  much  as  if  Legs  had  gotten 
the  bulge  on  Pop. 


XXV. 

MOST  of  us  have  been,  at  times,  aroused 
from  a  revery  by  the  last  stroke  of  a  clock 
giving  out  the  hour,  and  still  have  been  able 
to  count,  in  the  chambers  of  the  brain,  the 
impressions  which  the  air  has  lost.  So  our 
fair  dreamer,  her  spirit  floating  afar,  amid  the 
rosy  clouds  of  youthful  fancy — though  she 
heeded  not,  yet  did  she  hear  the  soft  foot- 
steps of  her  adorer,  as  he  reverently  stole 
away,  loath  to  break  the  spell  that  cast  about 
her  so  divine  a  halo.  Arousing  from  her 
dream  with  a  start,  she  looked  about  her, 
bewildered,  at  first;  then  caught  a  glimpse 
of  his  receding  form.  A  vivid  blush  over- 
spread her  face,  as,  with  sudden  maidenly  in- 
stinct, she  brushed  down  (though  needlessly), 
about  her  ankles,  the  snowy  skirts.  For  a 
moment  her  blue  eyes  were  darkened. 
156 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

It  is  not  without  a  shock  to  be  looked 
upon  unawares,  though  only  one's  soul  be  in 
dishabille. 

But  only  for  a  moment;  for  she  divined, 
from  the  roll  he  carried  in  his  hand,  that  he 
had  sought  her  out  to  show  the  new  music, 
and,  finding  her  in  dreamland,  had  stolen 
away  through  delicacy.  And  with  a  sudden 
rush  her  heart  was  brimful  of  that  tender 
foolishness  which  has  been  a  buckler  to 
many  bosoms  in  this  pitiless,  thorn-girt  path 
along  which  we  mortals  are  inexorably  driven, 
— dimly  guessing  both  the  whence  and  the 
whither.  And  she  felt,  as  she  rose  and 
slowly  sauntered  towards  the  house,  wrapped 
in  the  warm  and  scented  air  of  spring,  that, 
if  he  took  it  into  his  head — if  he  should 
happen  to  choose  this  hour  for  talking  a 
little  "  nonsense,"  she  would  hardly  have  the 
strength  to  be  unkind.  He  met  her  at  the 
porch,  brandishing  the  roll  in  triumph: 
"  And  now  we  can  play  duos  together !" 
14 


15%       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  How  nice !" 

"  I  thought  you  would  like  to  open  the 
parcel  with  your  own  hands."  There  was  a 
subtle  something  in  his  voice, — something 
new  and  strange. 

"You  are  very  thoughtful,"  replied  she, 
with  a  little  glance  that  repaid  him,  he 
thought,  for  all  the  trouble  he  had  been  at 
in  not  opening  the  package. 

She  sat  down  on  the  topmost  step  of  the 
porch.  He  took  his  seat  beside  her.  She 
tore  away  the  envelope  with  hands  that 
trembled  slightly, — so  eager  is  woman's  curi- 
osity. And  she  smoothed  out  the  fresh, 
clean  music  with  her  dimpled  hands,  as  it 
lay  on  her  lap,  murmuring,  "  Beautiful !  Beau- 
tiful !"  whispering  to  herself  the  successive 
titles  with  subdued  delight.  All  save  one. 
Perhaps  she  did  not  remark  it.  At  any  rate, 
she  passed  on  to  the  next. 

And  as  they  leaned  over  the  fair  pages, 
their  heads  were  close  together.  Who  can 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       1 59 

read  notes  a  mile  away  ?  And  was  he  not 
brother  Bob's  dearest  friend  ? 

And  a  pert  little  zephyr,  seeing  them  sit- 
ting there,  so  close,  so  cosey,  crept,  a-tiptoe, 
up,  and,  plucking  away  from  loosened  comb 
a  fluttering  tress  of  golden  foam,  fanned  it 
with  ambrosial  wing  against — blissfullest  of 
chins — then  scampered  off,  holding  both  his 
sides. 

A  most  ticklish  business ! 

And  the  jocund  elf  floats  away,  borne 
on  the  indolent-eddying,  scented  breath  of 
spring.  And  as  he  sweeps,  on  diaphanous, 
misty  wing,  over  blooming  mead,  the  flowers, 
knowing  their  master,  smiling,  nod.  And 
in  orchard  and  in  copse,  the  nesting  birds 
twitter  shrill  welcome. 

Nor  does  he  forget,  as  he  passes  by,  to 
breathe  upon  the  peach-bloom  damask  of 
oval  cheeks.  And  maidens  gaze  far  away, 
dreaming  of  coming  fates. 

Victorious  spring  is  in  the  air. 


XXVI. 

"  WHICH  one  shall  we  begin  with  ?"  asked 
Bessie,  dropping  down  on  the  piano-stool  (as 
though  a  trifle  tired). 

"This,"  said  the  young  man,  placing  the 
music  before  her,  and  drawing  up  a  chair 
(without  the  least  symptom  of  fatigue). 

"That?"  asked  she,  in  a  low  voice,  and 
without  glancing  at  the  title.  Perhaps  she 
knew  what  it  was.  It  was  the  only  piece 
that  had  a  blue  cover, — the  one,  by  the  way, 
of  which  she  had  omitted  to  read  aloud  the 
title  on  the  steps  (where  the  naughty  little 
zephyr  was  playing  his  tricks). 

"  This,"  said  he,—"  That  ?"  said  she,— two 
wretched  little  pronouns ! 

Oh,  of  course  she  must  have  known  what 

it  was! 
1 60 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 


It  was  the  Wedding  March  of  Felix  Men- 
delssohn-Bartholdy. 

And  as  they  sat  there,  he  pressing  down 
the  rebellious  sheets,  and  trying  to  make 
them  lie  smooth,  up  trips,  again,  the  saucy 
zephyr,  and,  through  the  open,  festooned 
window,  shakes  at  them  a  bloom-laden  frond 
of  twisted  honeysuckle  ;  and,  with  a  puff 
from  his  plump  cheeks,  sends  the  rich  per- 
fume circling  about  their  heads. 

And  two  little  house-sparrows  (just  arrived 
on  a  bridal  tour  from  Louisiana),  —  daintiest, 
friendliest  of  all  our  birds,  —  alighting  on  the 
window-sill  in  pretended  quest  of  crumbs, 
peeped  in.  And  the  happy  little  bride  said  — 
or  seemed  to  say  —  "Chip!  chip!"  but,  just 
as  likely  as  not,  she  meant  "  There  they  are  !" 
and  he  made  I  know  not  what  reply,  but 
with  knowingest  of  winks.  And  away  they 
darted  to  the  orchard,  chip-chipping  as  they 
flew,  —  but  I  shall  always  believe  they  were 
giggling  for  dear  life. 

I  14* 


1 62        Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  The  darling  little  things  !  We  frightened 
them !" 

"  How  happy  they  looked  !  Well,  are  you 
ready?  All  right!  You  come  in  on  the 
sixth  bar,  mind.  One,  two,  three,  four " 

And  there  rose  from  beneath  his  fingers 
those  opening  notes  that  have  stayed  the 
beating,  for  very  joy,  of  full  many  a  heart, — 
that  have  sent  a  flash  of  radiance  over  the 
faces  of  many  an  audience. 

Down  came  Bessie's  hands. 

"  Oh,  how  stupid !"  cried  she. 

"  Once  more,  then." 

Confusion  worse  confounded.  Never  was 
there  such  blundering!  Such  a  jumble  in 
the  bass,  too !  And  he  a  professor ! 

Bang,  bang,  below ;  tweedledee,  above : 
but  no  respect  for  the  intentions  of  the  com- 
poser,— no  beat,  no  rhythm 

No  rhythmic  beat !  Ah,  but  what  a  mad 
thumping,  somewhere!  And  tender  throb 
makes  answer! 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       1 63 

"  If  we  could  but  keep  together  to  the 
end!"  cried  she. 

"  If  we  only  could !"  sighed  he. 

Bessie,  paling  a  little,  leaned  quickly  for- 
ward. Sometimes  notes  are  a  little  blurred. 
They  begin  anew. 

And  Mrs.  Willis  sat  in  her  chamber,  won- 
dering that  she  had  not  noticed,  before,  how 
dreadfully  out  of  tune  the  piano  was. 

Never  was  Mendelssohn  so  massacred. 
The  little  zephyr  stopped  his  ears  with  his 
Liliputian  thumbs ;  for  he  too  is  a  musician, — 
an  ^Eolian  harper, — cunning  to  evoke,  when 
he  will,  melodies,  tender,  vague,  bewitching, 
from  whispering  reed,  from  quivering  poplar, 
from  sighing  pine. 

"  Oh,  where  on  earth  are  we !" 

"  7  am  not  on  the  earth !" 

"  Tell  me  where  to  begin,  please  ?"  and  she 
averted  her  face  to  hide  the  flash  of  an  ex- 
ultant smile.  But  the  smile  was  not  there ! 
Not  upon  her  kindling  cheek,  not  in  her 


1 64       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

brimming  eyes !  It  trembled,  rather,  deep 
down  in  her  fluttering  heart. 

"There!"  said  he,  leaning  forward  and 
placing  an  agitated  finger  upon  a  line  of  her 
part.  He  thrust  forward  his  arm  so  swiftly 
that  hers  did  not  have  time  to  get  out  of 
the  way;  and  the  cheviot  and  the  organdie 
rustled  together. 

A  most  ticklish  business ! 

Lay  your  hand  upon  an  uncharged  electrical 
machine.  It  is  nothing!  But  the  merest 
tip  of  your  little  finger — if  it  be  tingling ! 

Boom,  boom — fiddle  faddle 

"  I'll  send  Reuben  for  the  tuner  to-morrow," 
thought  Mrs.  Willis. 

Bang,  bang — tweedledee 

"  Oh,"  sighed  Bessie,  dropping  her  hands 
in  despair,  "  what  can  possess  me  to-day  ?" 

"  I  know,  too  well,  what  possesses  me." 

Bessie  leaned  forward  quickly,  and  began 
studying  the  notes  :  "  You  talk  so  much,  you 
put  me  out,"  scolded  she. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       I^5 

"  Woman,  we  are  told,  is  often  generous, 
rarely  just." 

"  Why,  I  have  not  uttered  twenty  words !" 
"I  know— but " 

H  T >» 

"  Is  it  really  worth  learning  ?" 

"It  is  beautiful— but " 

"But  too  difficult  for  me?" 

"  I  wasn't  going  to  say  that." 

"  Well  ?" 

"  Well — it  is  not  much — on  the  piano — but 
on  the  organ " 

"On  the  organ?" 

With  hands  poised  above  the  keys,  with 
wistful  eyes  devouring  her  averted  face: 
"  Yes,  on  the  organ.  But  we  would  not  be 
the  performers.  Some  one  else  would  be 
playing  it  for  us, — for  you — and  for  me — 
Bessie !" 

The  blue-flecked  organdie  rose  and  fell 
in  thronging  beats. 

"  Let  us  try  just  once  more,"  she  faltered. 


1 66       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

He  obeyed  with  alacrity, — sniffing  victory 
with  exultant  nostril. 

And  so  the  four  hands  came  down  once 
more, — but  for  the  last  time.  For  Bessie 
made  a  mistake  that  put  an  end  to  this  music 
lesson. 

Every  one  knows  that  the  various  octaves 
of  a  piano  are  as  much  alike  as  two  peas, 
even  to  one  who  is  perfectly  calm.  But  she 
was  not  calm.  How  could  she  be,  with  her 
professor  talking  and  talking  and  putting  her 
out?  At  any  rate  her  left  hand  struck  one 
octave  too  low.  But  that  brought  it  square 
a-top  of  the  professor's  right. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon  !"  and  she  covered 
her  face  with  her  hands. 

Wise  teachers  correct  errors  on  the  spot. 
So  the  good  professor  instantly  took  the 
erring  thumb  in  his  right  hand,  and  the  ill- 
advised  little  finger  in  his  left,  and  was 
about  to  plunge  them  down  upon  the  correct 
octave — there  ! — when — he  changed  his  mind. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       167 

Was  it  because  the  wrist  was  so  limp,  the 
poor  little  fingers  so  dreadfully  tired  ?  Quick 
as  a  flash  he  strained  that  hand  against  his 
heart,  then  pressed  it  to  his  lips,  devouring 
it  with  kisses ;  and  against  his  heart,  once 
more,  and  again  to  his  lips.  And  all  the 
while  she  (for  her  right  hand  still  covered 
her  eyes)  had  not  the  least  idea  what  he 
was  at. 

Not  so  Jenny  Wren.  She,  as  she  emerged 
from  a  crevice  in  the  wall,  near  the  top  of  the 
window,  saw  plainly  enough  what  he  was  up 
to.  Jenny  was  an  old  married  woman,  and 
had  been  watching  the  world  wag  a  good 
many  summers ;  still,  she  was  far  from  having 
lost  her  interest  in  such  things  :  "  Look,  look, 
look !"  (Tuweetaweetaweetawee)  chirruped 
she  to  her  spouse,  who  was,  himself,  peeping 
with  might  and  main  from  a  walnut  hard  by : 
"  Oh,  we  boys  are  all  alike  !"  rejoined  (in  the 
Wrennish)  the  dapper  gallant,  with  a  hu- 
moristic  flirt  of  his  dandified  little  tail. 


1 68       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

And  when  the  wicked  little  zephyr  (who 
had  crawled  up  on  the  sill  on  all  fours)  saw 
that  soft  little  hand  resting  so  snugly ;  and 
when  he  saw,  too,  a  stalwart  arm  following 
the  line  that  had  been  marked  out  for  it — 
just  in  the  right  place — by  that  belt  of 
blue  ribbon,  and  closing  upon  it  with  slow 
vehemence,  he  chuckled,  he,  he !  and  he 
chuckled,  ha,  ha ! — rejoicing  in  the  mischief 
he  had  wrought.  (But  they  thought  it  was 
the  rustling  of  the  honeysuckle.) 

And  then  another  arm  went  foraging,  and 
brought  in  a  fair  head  captive,  and  laid  it 
upon  a  square  shoulder.  And  for  a  moment 
there  was  blissful  rest  and  peace.  But  only 
for  a  moment;  for  brief  is  man's  content. 
And  so  the  sunny  head  began  to  duck  this 
way,  dodge  that, — to  left,  to  right, — now 
down,  now  thrown  back,  with  lips  compressed 
in  forbidding  primness,  under  which  lurked 
a  forgiving  smile.  And  he  was  so  very,  very 
persistent !  So  at  last  the  weary  head  fell 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       1 69 

back   upon    the  hospitable  shoulder,  and — 
well? 

"Ho!  ho!"  roared  the  little  imp  (but 
gently  as  any  sucking  dove),  tumbling  back- 
ward out  of  the  window  in  his  ecstasy. 
And  falling  upon  a  bed  of  violets,  he  rolled 
over  again  and  again.  But  the  violets  barely 
nodded  their  heads, — so  light  was  he.  And 
the  merry  sprite,  rising  on  scented  wing  of 
woven  hair,  went  his  way,  leaving,  every- 
where, sweet  trouble  in  his  wake. 


XXVII. 

IT  was  midnight.  A  glorious  moon  re- 
vealed a  light,  topless  wagon  at  the  front 
door.  The  master  held  the  reins,  faithful 
Tommy  at  his  side.  The  tuneful  sons  of 
fair  Italia  were  clambering  into  the  vehicle 
and  taking  their  seats  in  splint-bottomed 
chairs  provided  for  the  purpose.  Around 
stood  a  swarm  of  youngsters  handing  up  to 
the  band,  with  zealous  pride,  their  several 
instruments.  Even  to  touch  them  was  honor. 
A  man  stood  at  the  head  of  either  horse, — 
and  with  reason,  to  judge  by  the  low,  nervous 
patter  of  their  hoofs  on  the  gravel.  Let  'em 
go  !  A  swift  spring  forward ;  a  sort  of  earth- 
quake among  the  passengers. 

"Set  hard  on  dem  cheers!  Don't,  you 
gwine  to  git  duss  on  your  backs,"  was  the 

voice  of  anonymous  counsel. 
170 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 


"  Don't  mind,  dem  ther'breds  spill  dem 
lingo  people,  yit  !"  whispered  prophecy. 

Mr.  Edmondson  had  a  fad  as  regards 
horses.  But  two  kinds  were  worth  a  mo- 
ment's consideration,  —  thoroughbreds  for  gen- 
tlemen, mules  for  the  Man  and  Brother. 
The  thoroughbred  was  swifter,  more  endur- 
ing, kinder,  more  intelligent,  more  cour- 
ageous, longer-lived,  —  why,  sir  - 

He  was  driving  a  pair  of  these  perfect 
animals  to-night  ;  and  hardly  fair  specimens, 
for  he  had  taken  them  in  hand  but  a  month 
before.  That  did  not  disturb  our  friend, 
however.  As  a  driver  he  was  absolutely 
fearless. 

Notwithstanding  that  the  band  had  played 
fully  two  hours  after  supper  (and  had  been 
liberally  rewarded  by  the  dusky  throng 
around  the  sycamore),  the  wagon  had  no 
sooner  started  down  the  road  than  there 
was  a  pell-mell  rush  across  the  fields,  towards 
The  Cedars,  of  the  entire  farm  force.  The 


1 72       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

boys  led,  eager,  panting.  Next  strode  on 
the  men,  while  the  women  brought  up  the 
rear,  dragging  their  children  along  the  path, 
one  or  two  even  carrying  infants  in  their 
arms.  Not  a  human  creature  was  left  on 
the  farm. 

Meantime,  the  minstrels  pursued  their 
chequered  career  along  their  more  circuitous 
route.  Over  the  level  stretches  they  flew, — 
at  one  time  one  colt,  at  another  both,  gallop- 
ing. Tommy's  Socratic  nostrils  dilated  to 
the  rushing  freshness.  His  eyes  flashed  joy. 
The  Pouter,  his  widespread  legs  stiff  as  steel 
against  the  dash-board,  held  the  quivering 
reins  like  one  who  knew  how. 

But  now,  the  colts,  coming  suddenly  upon 
a  broad  patch  of  moonlight,  swerve  violently 
to  the  right.  An  overhanging  branch  swishes 
against  wagon  and  passengers,  and  the  colts 
dart  madly  forward.  The  Pouter  had  lost 
his  hat,  but,  though  his  waistcoat  shook  like 
a  bowlful  of  jelly,  he  sits  intrepid  in  soul. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       J  7  3 

Never  mind,  Tommy!  We'll  get  it  on  our 
way  back. 

It  was  no  time  for  collecting  hats ;  for  an 
enormous  cow  lay  in  the  road,  a  few  yards 
ahead,  peacefully  chewing  her  cud. 

No  true  cow  seriously  objects  to  being  run 
over.  If  you  give  her  time  she  will  slowly 
creep  out  of  the  road.  But  the  Pouter  didn't 
have  any  time  to  give  her.  All  the  time  that 
there  was,  the  colts  were  making. 

Over  her,  like  deer,  bounded  the  gallant 
bays.  The  driver  held  his  seat ;  but  Tommy, 
as  he  wheeled  a  somersault  through  the  air, 
saw  her  wild-starting  eyes  rolling  like  balls 
of  fire  in  the  moonlight. 

Chairs  and  fiddlers  were  inextricably  inter- 
mingled. The  cymbalist  stood  on  his  head. 
The  harpist  lay  flat  on  his  back,  his  heels 
in  the  air,  while  his  heavy  instrument,  com- 
ing down  on  the  clarionet's  head,  laid  him 
low.  And  when  the  cow  rose,  bellowing, 
with  the  wagon  on  her  withers,  the  Italians 
'5*  . 


1 74        Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

could  easily  imagine  themselves  back  in 
Calabria  the  Seismic. 

A  most  gruesome  opening  to  a  moonlit 
serenade,  this  basso  profondo  of  a  frantic 
cow ! 

Tommy,  wonderful  boy,  lit  on  his  feet; 
and,  jumping  into  the  wagon  from  behind, 
scrambled  back  to  his  place  over  the  com- 
mingled minstrels. 

The  colts  reared  and  plunged,  refusing  to 
go  forward.  The  cow  looked  on  in  wonder. 
The  Pouter  touched  the  flank  of  the  off 
colt. 

Whizz ! 

"  Look  out-a,  signor ;  he  kick  out-a  de 
brain-a!" 

"  He  can't  kick  any  brains  out  of  you, 
can  he,  Pop  ?" 

"  Not  much !"  quoth  the  sire,  exulting  in 
the  loyalty  of  the  son. 

Down  came  the  whip.  Away  they  went 
like  the  wind.  But  at  last  they  came  to  a 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       1 7  5 

halt  in  front  of  The  Cedars,  the  thorough- 
breds quivering  in  every  nerve. 

"  Wo-o,  boys,  wo-o  !" 

The  serenade  began. 

The  annals  of  music  hardly  record  a 
shorter. 

One  note.     No  more. 


XXVIII. 

BESSIE  alone  heard  the  approaching  wagon. 
Even  Tenterden  slept  the  sleep  of  the  just 
(I  am  sorry  to  have  to  record),  while  his 
inamorata  lay  wide  awake,  a  half-smile  part- 
ing her  lips.  Wondering,  she  arose,  crept 
to  the  window,  and  peeped  through  the  Ve- 
netian blinds. 

But  I  spoke  too  fast  when  I  said  that 
Bessie  alone  was  awake.  Tiger  was  not 
asleep.  Tiger  (Tige,  for  short)  was  Uncle 
Reuben's  'coon  dog.  A  large  brindled  cur, 
good  at  his  trade,  and  very  fierce  withal. 

"  Yes,  sir,  Tige  he  part  bull ;  but  de  reason 
he  so  oncommon  ambitious,  I  sprinkle  gun- 
powder on  he  victuals  when  he  was  a  puppy." 

Whether  Tige's  ambition  was  due  to  this 
alleged  pedigree,  or  to  the  stimulating  con- 
diment in  question,  I  cannot  say ;  but  it  led 
176 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       177 

him  into  a  scrape,  once,  whence  he  escaped 
with  a  modified  expression  of  countenance. 
Meeting  a  gentleman,  in  a  narrow  path,  in- 
stead of  getting  out  of  the  way,  he  sprang 
furiously  upon  him.  The  hunter  addressed  a 
cartridge  to  Tige's  care,  and  shore  clean  away 
his  left  upper  lip,  leaving  the  glittering  fangs 
exposed,  and  converting  him  (on  that  side) 
into  an  artificial  bull-dog  of  grisliest  mien. 

Such  was  Tige,  as  he  lay  beneath  the 
porch,  on  the  night  of  this  peaceful,  moonlit 
serenade. 

He,  too,  we  can  well  imagine,  was  sur- 
prised at  the  sound  of  horses'  hoofs  at  that 
hour.  But  Tige  was,  like  all  dogs,  an  aris- 
tocrat ;  or,  if  you  will,  a  snob.  He  respected 
people  who  called  on  wheels.  Giving  a 
sniff  or  two,  therefore,  for  form's  sake,  he 
lay  his  grim  muzzle  between  his  broad  paws 
and  awaited  events.  People  who  called  on 
people  at  that  time  o'  night  would  bear  a 
little  watching-. 


1 7  8       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

Mr.  Edmondson  had  quite  set  his  heart 
on  opening  the  programme  with  the  softly 
sentimental  piece  to  which  we  have  alluded ; 
but  the  leader  had  made  him  see  that  it 
might  be  totally  wasted  if  played  first :  the 
bella  signorina  might  sleep  through  it  all. 
As  the  lover  had  relied  much  on  the  emo- 
tion to  be  aroused  by  that  tender  melody, 
he  hailed  as  a  revelation  the  suggestion  that 
they  should  begin  with  a  rousing  strain, — 
something  in  the  AWAKE!  AROUSE  thee, 
dreamer  fair,  line. 

As  it  turned  out,  the  dreamer  fair  was 
peeping  through  the  blinds,  while  the  min- 
strels braced  themselves  for  the  thunderous 
harmonies  of  their  opening  chords. 

They  had  been  kindly  entreated,  and 
would  do  their  very  best. 

The  fiddlers  arched  their  right  arms  on 
high. 

The  clarionet  inflated  his  cheeks  till  his 
eyes  bulged  visibly. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       179 

The  harper  bent  him  forward,  adjusted 
finger  and  thumb,  fixed  his  gaze  upon  the 
leader. 

The  cymbals,  poised  high  in  the  still  air, 
faced  each  other,  ready  to  rush  together. 

The  flute  drew  his  lips  into  a  pucker  that 
was,  even  by  moonlight,  conspicuous  for  its 
intensity. 

Did  a  wave  of  suspicion  ripple  over  Tige's 
mind?  I  know  not.  Nature  has  denied 
me  the  gift  of  analysis.  I  confine  myself 
to  mere  outward  facts.  He  drew  in  his 
breath,  and  shot  it  out  with  a  force  that 
sent  the  dust  flying.  His  forepaws  moved 
apart,  a  trifle,  flattening  themselves  on  the 
ground.  His  hind  feet  drew  themselves 
together  beneath  his  haunches,  which  rose 
slightly.  Rose,  too,  the  bristles  along  his 
brindled  back.  Since  his  trouble  with  the 
huntsman  he  had  had  but  one  lip ;  that  one 
lip  faintly  fluttered. 

Tommy  had  turned  his  back  to  the  horses. 


i 80       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

The  Pouter  straddled  his  seat,  facing  the 
house,  the  reins  lying  lightly  in  his  left 
hand,  the  light  of  love  and  the  moon  illu- 
mining his  rubicund  visage. 

Bessie  looked  on,  wondering. 

Tige  looked  on. 

Suddenly  there  banged  upon  the  stilly 
night  a  bang,  there  tooted  a  toot,  there 
zimmed  a  zim,  there  tweedled  the  first  syl- 
lable of  a  tweedledee. 

The  first  syllable  only. 

The  serenade  was  over ! 

For  the  thoroughbreds  made  a  mad  spring. 
(Wo-o,  boys !)  Perhaps,  had  the  fates  been 
propitious,  they  might  have  stopped  with 
that.  But  what  sound  is  this ! 

Imagine  a  thunderbolt,  if  you  can,  hur- 
tling forth  from  resounding  cavern !  'Twas 
Tige!  He  did  not  bark.  From  a  pup,  he 
had  never  been  a  dog  to  waste  his  voice. 
But  with  every  bound  his  back  bumped 
against  the  floor  of  the  porch. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 


He  did  not  leap  across  the  road,  he  did 
not  run,  he  did  not  fly.  He  bounced  across, 
his  legs  rigid,  all  four  paws  coming  down 
in  synchronous  staccato  ;  and  the  gravel 
flew,  rattling,  before  him. 

His  teeth,  on  the  side  where  the  lip  was 
gone,  glittered  in  the  tranquil  moonshine. 
And,  fearful  to  relate,  with  every  bounce  he 
sucked  in  his  breath  with  raucous,  blood- 
curdling sound. 

As  though  he  came  not  to  bite,  but  utterly 
to  devour. 

Monstrum  horrendum  informe  ingens,  cui 
\labrutn\  ademptum.  An  'twere  a  buck- 
jumping  maelstrom  ! 

Wo-o,  boys  ! 

They  woed  not,  those  boys,  nor  tarried, 
till,  sailing  like  birds  over  their  owner's  front 
gate,  they  stood  trembling  in  their  stalls,  with 
fragments  of  their  traces  dangling  about  their 
clear-cut  limbs.  They  had  left  the  wagon 

and  a  few  chairs  (she  might  sit  down,  if  she 
16 


1 82        Gold  that  did  not  Glitter, 

would)  with  our  old  friend  the  cow,  without 
asking  for  a  receipt.  For  she,  after  the  un- 
pleasantness earlier  in  the  night,  had  decided, 
with  bovine  calm,  that  there  was  no  good 
reason  why  she  should  not,  and  two  good 
reasons  why  she  should  lie  down  again  in 
the  same  spot :  the  dust  was  soft,  just  there ; 
and  it  was  notorious  that  lightning  never 
struck  twice  in  the  same  place. 

And  so,  rising  a  second  time  from  her  in- 
terrupted cud,  and  standing  amid  the  debris, 
she  bent  her  mild  gaze  upon  the  cymbalist 
(who  alone  had  stayed  with  the  boys  so  far), 
and,  stretching  out  her  neck,  seemed  to  ask 
him,  with  a  plaintive  low  (they  had  not  given 
her  time  to  bellow),  to  give  a  poor  cow  some 
explanation  of  the  unusual  unusualness  of 
things. 

But  let  us  hurry  back  to  The  Cedars, 
where  some  of  our  friends  are  in  trouble. 

We  will  find  the  road  punctuated  with 
reminders  of  the  serenade.  A  chair,  a 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       J83 

broken  fiddle,  a  disconsolate  minstrel,  a  flute, 
another  minstrel,  another  chair, — they  were 
scattered  all  the  way  from  the  cow  to  the 
scene  of  their  "AWAKE,  AROUSE  thee, 
dreamer  fair."  (And  I  must  here  anticipate 
by  acquainting  the  reader  with  the  fact  that 
the  minstrels  remained  with  the  amorous 
widower  a  week,  while  their  leader  was  in 
Richmond,  with  seventy-five  dollars  of  the 
Pouter's  money  in  his  pocket,  buying  new  in- 
struments and  having  broken  ones  repaired.) 

But  while  we  have  been  away,  sympathiz- 
ing with  the  cow,  our  gallant  Automedon 
has  been  having  an  experience  sadly  out  of 
joint  with  the  moonlight  that  lay  upon  that 
peaceful  lawn. 

At  the  frantic  plunge  of  the  colts,  on  the 
dread  entrance  upon  the  scene  of  Tige, 
Tommy  tumbled  out  of  the  wagon  on  the 
farther  side,  while  harp  and  harper  fell  next 
the  house.  In  a  trice,  down  upon  the  un- 
happy musician  rolled  Pop,  face  downward, — 


1 84       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

that  is  to  say,  his  fingerbowlish  waist  landed 
on  the  "  small"  of  the  artist's  back. 

Science  tells  us  that  action  and  reaction 
are  equal, — that  a  nose  strikes  a  fist  just  as 
hard  as  a  fist  hits  a  nose.  The  nose,  as  has 
been  remarked  by  careful  observers,  is  always 
of  a  different  opinion.  So,  had  you  whis- 
pered in  the  ear  of  our  harpist,  as  he  felt 
all  his  breath  suddenly  bursting  through  his 
mouth  and  nostrils,  "  Never  mind ;  you  are 
bumping  up  as  hard  as  he  is  bumping  down," 
you  would  have  been  uttering  an  eternal 
verity ;  but  he  would  have  looked  upon  you 
as  a  professional  humorist.  It  all  depends 
upon  how  you  put  things.  Say  to  him, 
rather:  True,  you  seem  to  have  the  worse 
of  it,  for  the  moment;  you  do  remind  one 
of  a  pancake ;  but  meditate  on  Tige,  and  be 
comforted. 

There  had  been  a  discussion  between  Pop 
and  Tommy  whether  the  lover  should  don, 
on  this  auspicious  occasion,  a  certain  brand- 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       r85 

new  suit  just  arrived  from  Richmond;  and 
on  the  ground  that  they  would,  most  likely, 
be  invited  in,  it  had  been  agreed  that  the 
serenade  should  be  illustrated  by  the  new 
rig.  Of  this  new  suit,  the  coat,  when  its 
owner  fell,  flew  over  his  head. 

Now  Tige  knew  and  esteemed  Mr.  Ed- 
mondson;  but  how  was  he  to  divine,  from 
the  view  he  had,  that  there  lay  before  him 
a  respected  neighbor  ?  Whoever  it  was  had 
covered  his  head,  and,  as  he  kicked  out  fran- 
tically, in  his  efforts  to  rise,  was  plucking 
from  the  harp  what  must  have  seemed  to 
an  untravelled  dog  like  Tige,  most  sinister 
sounds.  And  the  most  knowing  of  dogs 
would  hardly  have  been  up  to  surmising 
that  a  worthy  country  gentleman  could  be 
there,  at  that  time  o'  night,  enacting  the  part 
of  lawn-roller  to  a  brother  man.  The  brother 
man  could  not  be  seen,  it  is  true;  but  his 
stifled  groans  and  strange,  sonorous  oaths 
showed  that  he  was  there. 
16* 


1 86       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

Tige,  being  no  strategist,  simply  took  the 
chances  that  offered  themselves.  He  came, 
he  saw,  he  bit, — bit  with  all  the  whole-souled 
energy  of  his  simple,  earnest  nature,  then, 
drawing  back  his  full  mouth,  shook  his 
trophies  with  a  growl  of  savage  triumph. 
Growled  once,  shook  once,  then  collapsed, — 
collapsed  in  an  instant,  as  though  struck  by 
lightning ! 

It  was  not  that  Tommy,  blubbering  with 
the  noble  rage  of  filial  affection,  had  sprung 
upon  him  and  broken  a  club  (more  accurately, 
a  clarionet)  across  his  embristled  back.  Tige 
took  no  account  of  boys  and  their  doings. 
But,  with  a  flash  of  overpowering  humilia- 
tion, he  recognized,  in  the  very  moment  of 
shaking  between  his  glittering  teeth  that 
quarter  of  a  yard  of  cheviot,  that  he  had 
been  rending  the  garments  of  a  trusted 
friend. 

With  hanging  head,  with  drooping  tail, 
with  fallen  crest,  he  slunk  away  to  his  den. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       J87 

Meanwhile,  there  had  been  scurrying  to 
and  fro  in  the  house.  Bessie  had  aroused 
her  mother  and  Bob;  Bob  had  awakened 
Tenterden.  The  two  gentlemen  descended 
hastily  to  admit  the  serenaders.  They  lit  the 
lamp. 

"What  on  earth  is  the  row?"  said  Bob, 
rubbing  his  sleepy  eyes. 

"You  see  we  came  over  to  give  you  a 
little  serenade.  That's  one  of  'em,"  said  Pop, 
glancing  towards  the  disconsolate  harpist. 

"Where  are  the  rest?" 

"  Damfino !"  (gracefully  dropping  into 
Italia's  soft  tongue).  "  Ask  the  colts !  Ask 
Tige!" 

"  It  was  going  to  be  just  a  splendid  con- 
cert," quoth  Tommy,  ruefully,  "  but  Tige  had 
to  go  and  break  it  up !" 

"  By  the  way,  I  wonder  if  the  scoundrel — 
damn  a  cur,  I  say — didn't  tear  my  breeches  ?" 
observed  the  lover,  feeling  under  his  coat-tails. 
"  GOOD  GOD  ALMIGHTY  !" 


1 88       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  Here's  the  p-p-piece !"  snivelled  Tommy. 
"Where  did  you  find  it?" 
"  I  got  it  from  Tige ;  the  d-d-durned  fool 
was  carrying  it  under  the  porch!" 


XXIX. 

"  WELL,  Tommy,  at  home  again !  Now 
run  up-stairs,  my  son,  and  jump  into  bed! 
Good-night,  my  boy!" 

"  Good-night,  Pop !  All  I  hate  about  it  is 
that  we  did  not  get  any  bulge  on  Legs." 


189 


XXX. 

ON  the  morning  after  these  stirring  events, 
Tenterden  had  a  satisfactory  interview  with 
Mrs."  Willis;  after  which  he  rode  into  the 
neighboring  village  and  gave  Mr.  Warwick, 
her  lawyer  and  friend,  the  addresses  of  some 
people  in  the  old  country  who  would  vouch 
for  his  respectability.  Meanwhile,  it  would 
be  proper  for  him  to  find  quarters  in  the 
village,  himself.  He  would  ride  out  every 
day,  so  as  to  continue  his  lessons  in  agri- 
culture under  Bob,  and  direct  the  musical 
studies  of  Miss  Willis. 

In  the  absence  of  any  society  journal  to 
perform  that  office,  Mrs.  Geoff's  Judy, 
mounted  on  Termagant,  spent  the  following 
week  in  spreading  the  news  of  the  rupture 
between  the  Willises  and  the  young  English- 
man, and  his  consequent  hasty  migration  to 
190 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       1 9 1 

the  village.  These  sudden  and  violent  friend- 
ships always  came  to  a  like  end.  She  had 
felt  confident  how  it  would  be,  from  the  very 
first.  Well,  it  would  be  a  lesson  to  them,  at 
any  rate. 

But  as  the  Englishman  persisted  in  riding 
down  to  The  Cedars  every  day,  often  dining 
with  the  family,  often  taking  tea  and  return- 
ing at  a  late  hour,  she  had  to  come  out  in  an 
extra,  with  editorial  comments  to  the  effect 
that  it  was  nothing  more  than  people  might 
expect  who  introduced  unknown  adventurers 
into  their  families.  For  her  part,  she  had 
known  perfectly  well  how  it  was  going  to 
end,  from  the  very  first.  It  was  not  to  be 
wondered  at,  of  course,  that  a  silly  young 
girl  should  throw  herself  at  the  head  of  the 
first  foreigner  that  came  along ;  but  she  had 
given  Mrs.  Willis  credit  for  more  sense.  No- 
body could  make  her  believe  the  monstrous 
story  that  they  had  set  a  pack  of  hounds  on 
Mr.  Edmondson ;  but  if  they  had  done  so, 


192       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

they  were  taking  a  good  deal  of  unnecessary 
trouble.  Mr.  Edmondson  was  not  looking  in 
that  quarter,  she  knew ! 

At  the  end  of  a  fortnight  it  was  remarked 
that  Termagant  was  growing  a  trifle  thin. 
But  what  she  had  done  was  nothing.  During 
the  following  week  her  flanks  were  to  be 
covered  with  foam. 

It  was  Sunday  morning.  Bessie  was  ab- 
sent from  church.  She  was  in  Richmond, 
on  a  fortnight's  visit.  Tenterden,  as  was  his 
custom,  sat  in  the  Willis's  pew.  Judy  was 
there.  She  never  failed,  rain  or  shine.  She 
was,  in  fact,  a  notably  devout  young  woman, 
— a  not  infrequent  trait,  when  one  has  the 
sins  of  all  one's  friends  to  repent  of.  But  she 
found  time,  -without  missing  a  response,  to 
keep  an  eye  on  the  adventurer. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  first  lesson,  a  slight 
movement  in  the  lower  part  of  the  church 
struck  on  her  vigilant  ear ;  and  she  was  about 
to  turn  and  wither  the  late  arrivals  with 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       193 

stony  stare,  when  she  saw  the  impostor  start. 
He  had  a  way,  as  she  had  frequently  ob- 
served with  contrition,  of  letting  his  eyes 
wander,  from  time  to  time,  from  his  book. 
On  more  than  one  occasion  had  she  detected 
him  casting  shy  glances  at  Bessie.  Actually ! 
So,  now,  he  had,  in  his  irreverent  and  idle 
way,  raised  his  eyes  in  the  direction  of  the 
new-comers.  And  when  he  saw  them,  he 
had  visibly  started.  There  was  not  the  least 
doubt  of  it ;  he  started ! 

It  is  of  the  last  importance  that  those  who 
have  the  interests  of  religion  at  heart  should 
see  what  is  going  on  in  church ;  so  she 
turned  and  saw  that  the  late  arrivals  were 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sanderson. 

Sanderson  was  a  young  Englishman  who 
had  bought  a  farm  about  fifteen  miles  dis- 
tant; but  he  came,  occasionally,  to  Miss 
Judy's  church  (as  it  was  generally  known  to 
the  congregation).  He  had  married  a  girl  in 
this  neighborhood,  though  Mrs.  Geoff's  Judy 
i  n  17 


J94       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

had  steadily  refused  her  consent  to  the  very 
last.  But  the  young  person's  parents,  finding 
that  he  was  not  only  a  gentleman  in  his  own 
country,  but  took  the  trouble  to  continue  one 
in  this  (a  half- rare  case),  gave  him  their 
daughter.  They  had  been  married  several 
years,  and  were  provokingly  happy ;  so  that 
Judy  was  more  than  ever  set  against  such 
ill-considered  unions.  Sanderson  was  an 
immense,  loose-jointed  fellow,  and,  with 
his  blue  eyes,  blond  beard,  and  fresh  com- 
plexion, typically  English  in  appearance ; 
notwithstanding  which,  his  mite  of  a  wife 
(she  weighed  hardly  one  hundred  pounds) 
had  managed  to  convert  him  into  a  rabid 
Virginian.  His  half-earnest,  half-humorous 
bragging  about  Virginia  (especially  her 
women)  made  him  very  popular.  One  of 
his  sayings  was  that  any  country  that  had 
invented  the  julep  was  fairly  entitled  to  rest 
on  her  laurels,  without  another  effort,  for  a 
century  at  the  least. 


Gold  tJtat  did  not  Glitter.       195 

Such  was  the  man  whose  entrance  into 
Judy's  church  had  made  the  adventurer  start. 
Sanderson,  however,  was  so  busy  fanning  his 
little  wife,  looking  up  the  hymns  for  her,  etc., 
that  he  never  once  glanced  towards  Tenter- 
den.  As  they  were  near  the  door,  they  were 
among  the  first  to  pass  out  of  the  church ; 
and  before  Tenterden  could  overtake  the 
couple,  Sanderson  had  left  his  wife  on  the 
sidewalk  and  gone  to  fetch  his  trap  from  a 
side  street.  Miss  Judy  was  close  by  when 
Tenterden,  going  up  behind  Sanderson,  laid 
his  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"  In  the  name  of  all  that  is  wonderful, 
Main  waring,  can  this  be  you  ?" 

"  I  am  under  that  impression,  my  dear 
boy !" 

The  two  men  wrung  each  other's  hands. 

"  You  don't  know  my  wife,  Mainwaring  ? 
Of  course  not!  Come,  let  me  present  you 
to  her, — the  dearest  little  girl,  by  the  way, 
and  she  will  be  delighted  to  know  you. 


1 96       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

Come ! — my  dear,  this  is  my  old  Eton  chum, 
Mainwaring,  dropped  from  the  clouds !  Since 
Christmas,  you  say?  Extraordinary,  by 
Jove !  Here,  jump  right  in !  Where  is 
your  luggage?  All  right!  Give  us  a 
week.  Ah,  good  boy !  Come,  Polly,  hop 
in!" 

The  wee  and  winsome  Polly  beamed  on 
the  old  Eton  chum,  and  seconded  her  hus- 
band's invitation  with  great  warmth. 

"  I'll  be  back  in  a  minute.  I  must  run 
down  to  the  corner  for  a  moment,  to  see 
about  a  little  matter." 

Mrs.  Geoff's  Judy  happened  to  be  walking 
in  the  same  direction. 

"  Your  husband  seems  to  have  met  an  old 
friend !" 

"  Oh,  yes ;  isn't  it  nice  ?  Mr.  Mainwaring ; 
he  has  so  often  spoken  to  me  of  him.  He 
is  to  spend  a  week  with  us.  But  you  must 
know  him?" 

"  Oh,    I   have    met    him    frequently.      He 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       I97 

has  been  in  this  neighborhood  since  before 
Christmas." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  Yes,  so  he  said.  And 
that  Jack  should  not  have  known  that  he 
was  here!" 


17* 


XXXI. 

IT  was  well  that  Termagant  was  tough  and 
tireless,  else  had  the  following  week's  work 
been  more  than  even  she  could  have  endured. 
People  hardly  knew  Judy,  so  bright  was  her 
eye,  so  sunny  her  smile,  as  she  galloped  up 
on  the  spirited  little  mare.  "  Oh,  I  just 
can't  stay  in  the  house  this  beautiful  weather. 
And  besides,  Mrs.  Blank,  I  have  a  crow  to 
pick  with  you.  Why  haven't  your  children 
been  coming  to  Sunday-school  more  regu- 
larly? Bad  weather?  Well,  it  has  been 
horrid,  till  recently.  Never  mind,  children, 
we  can  make  up  for  lost  time  now.  How 
are  your  strawberries  this  season  ?  Oh,  no,  I 
could  not  possibly  wait;  I  must  be  off.  I 
merely  called  by,  in  passing,  to  give  you  a 
good  scolding  about  the  children.  Upon  my 
word,  Mrs.  Blank,  I  have  not  time,  and  you 
198 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       199 

ought  not  to  have  taken  the  trouble.  How- 
ever, since  they  are  here  I  will  take  one 
or  two.  What  nice,  rich  cream!"  (What 
makes  Mrs.  Geoff's  Judy  so  civil,  I  wonder  ?) 
"  They  are  perfect  beauties  !  Came  from  Mr. 
Edmondson's,  you  say?  Kind  neighbor,  I 
hear.  Oh,  I  assure  you,  Mr.  Blank,  it  was 
no  laughing  matter.  You  unfeeling  man! 
They  say  he  was  torn  to  pieces,  almost. 
Nothing  but  the  seat  of  his  bree — trousers, 
you  say,  Mr.  Blank?  Didn't  set  Tige  on 
him?  I  am  truly  glad  to  hear  it!  People 
are  so  malicious !  Making  love  to  Bessie  ? 
That  is  news,  indeed !  Well,  if  that  be  true, 
— mind,  I  say  if  there  be  any  truth  in  that 
absurd  story, — she  might  go  farther  and  fare 
worse.  Very — much — worse.  What,  is  it 
possible  ?  Not  heard  it  ?  Why  it  is  all  over 
the  county !"  (alas,  poor  Termagant !)  "  Not 
true?  It  is  only  too  terribly  true.  Mr. 
Sanderson  knew  him  as  soon  as  he  laid  eyes 
on  him.  Didn't  I  see  the  creature  start,  with 


200       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

my  own  eyes  ?  Yes,  Tenterden  is  an  alias. 
Mrs.  Sanderson  told  me  his  real  name  with 
her  own  lips.  Just  to  think  of  poor  Bessie's 
being  entrapped  by  a  wretched  adventurer ! — 
as  likely  as  not  a  ticket-of-leave  man  !  Hope 
for  the  best?  Oh,  how  sweetly  charitable 
you  two  good,  good  people  are!  Well,  I 
must  be  off  Be  sure  to  have  the  children 
at  Sunday-school  regularly,  hereafter.  No 
more,  thank  you.  They  are  delicious."  She 
smacked  her  lips.  They  deserved  it;  for 
they  had  done  double  duty. 

And  she  and  Termagant  were  off  like  the 
wind.  Life  is  short,  and  Judy  knew  how  to 
make  the  most  of  it.  She  loved  to  eat  and 
to  disseminate  tidings.  She  had  bitten  two 
berries  with  one  tooth. 


XXXII. 

"  LET  me  help  you  again,  Mr.  Mainwaring  ; 
though  Jack  maintains  our  strawberries  are 
not  half  so  fine  as  those  you  have  in  Eng- 
land." 

"  Not  half  so  large,  Polly,"  rejoined  San- 
derson. "  The  size  of  a  thing  is  neither  here 
nor  there.  Now  look  at  Polly  herself.  I 
have  seen  many  girls  larger,  but " 

"  Now,  don't  make  a  goose  of  yourself, 
Jack !"  (Jack  had  a  habit  of  doing  just  that, 
where  she  was  concerned.) 

"  I  don't  see  how  he  could  help  it,"  said 
Mainwaring,  bowing. 

"Ah,  you  will  get  on  with  our  Virginia 
girls,  if  you  know  how  to  make  speeches 
like  that !"  laughed  the  pretty  little  matron. 
"  It  sounds  as  though  you  had  been  practis- 
ing a  little  too !" 

201 


202       Gold  tlwt  did  not  Glitter. 

"  Eh,  old  chap  ?  Fallen  a  victim  to  Miss 
Judy's  charms  ?" 

Mrs.  Sanderson  suggested  the  names  of  a 
few  other  girls  in  his  neighborhood. 

"  By  the  way,  Mainwaring,  speaking  of 
the  Willises,  you  know,  of  course,  the 
young  Englishman  who  has  been  spend- 
ing the  winter  with  them,  studying  farm- 
ing?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  added  Mrs.  Sanderson,  "  Mr. 
Tenterden.  I  have  been  intending  to  ask 
you  about  him.  Jack  ought  to  have  called, 
long  since." 

"  Oh,  I  fight  a  little  shy  of  my  countrymen, 
at  first." 

Mainwaring  looked  from  one  to  the  other, 
smiling,  but  silent. 

A  spoon,  with  a  big  strawberry,  stood  still, 
an  inch  from  the  little  woman's  parted  lips. 

"  Eh  ?"  said  Sanderson. 

"  I — too — spent  the  winter  with  the  Wil- 
lises  " 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       2°3 

"  You !  Then  of  course  you  know  him. 
Is  he  a  good  sort?" 

"  Not  bad — as  men  go " 

"A  kind  of  chap  that  a  fellow  might  in- 
vite to  his  house  ?" 

"  I  believe  you  would  like  him " 

"Then  I'll  call." 

"  I'm  told,"  said  Mrs.  Sanderson,  "  that  he 
is  exceedingly  handsome.  I  hear  that  the 
girls  down  there  just  rave  about  his  eyes  and 
his  figure?" 

Mainwaring  blushed,  frowned,  and  smiled 
all  at  once :  "  I  dare  say.  At  the  same  time, 
I  must  add  that  it  is  news  to  me." 

"  Oh,  you  men !  Why  are  you  so  un- 
willing to  hear  one  another's  good  looks 
praised!  I  am  sure  he  must  be  just  lovely, 
from  what  I  hear.  Describe  him  to  me. 
How  tall  is  he?  Is  he  as  English  as  Jack? 
What  is  the  color  of  his  eyes  and  hair  ?  Is 
he  nice  ?  Is  he  clever  ?" 

While  Polly  was  pouring  forth  this  volley 


2O4       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

of  questions,  a  totally  different  current  of 
thought  was  dancing  through  that  shrewd 
little  head, — a  prerogative  of  woman.  She 
saw  through  the  whole  business !  Main- 
waring  and  Tenterden  were  both  smitten 
with  that  lovely  Bessie.  A  clear  case  of  the 
green-eyed  monster !  Oh,  these  men  !  But 
how  easy  they  are  to  see  through !  Seeing 
him  hesitate:  "Well,  give  me  a  portrait,  so 
that  I  may  judge  for  myself." 

"  Let  me  see.  Well,  he  is  not  as  tall  as 
Jack,  by  an  inch  or  so." 

"About  your  height?" 

"To  a  hair-breadth,  almost " 

"  Well  ?" 

"And  I  dare  say  you  would  say  he  was 
not  as  English-looking  as  your  husband.  At 
any  rate,  his  hair  and  eyes  are  dark." 

"  Very,  very  dark  ?" 

"  Well,  I  should  say  about  the  shade  of  mine. 
He  wears  side-whiskers  and  a  moustache." 

"The  darling!     Jack  did  in  our  courting 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       205 

days,  but  he  is  too  lazy  to  shave  now.    Go  on, 
please.    He  wears  his  beard  as  you  do,  then  ?" 

"  Precisely.  So  far  as  beards  go,  you 
could  not  tell  us  apart." 

"A  very  handsome,  stalwart  figure,  I  am 
told " 

"  Well,  opinions  might  differ  as  to  that 
about  such  a  figure  as  mine." 

She  gave  a  little  smile  and  bow,  as  though 
to  say  that,  in  that  event,  opinions  were  not 
likely  to  differ  so  very  widely :  "  According  to 
your  account,  you  must  be  as  like  as  twins !" 

"  By  the  way,  Polly,  there  is  another  re- 
semblance,—their  names :  William  Tenterden, 
and  William  Tenterden  Mainwaring." 

"  How  extraordinary !  In  Virginia  we 
claim  relationship  on  less  than  that.  Any 
other  coincidences?" 

"  One  or  two  more :  we  both  strum  on  the 
piano  a  little." 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  good  fun  to  see  the  two 
twins  playing  a  duet?" 
18 


206       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"And  leave  Miss  Willis  out?" 

"  Oh !  If  it  be  a  fair  question,  is  there  a 
coincidence  there,  too?  Do  you — admire 
her  as  much  as  he  does?  Though  that 
would  be  hardly  possible  from  all  ac- 
counts." 

"  Hardly,  I  should  say,"  cried  Sanderson, 
bursting  into  a  laugh.  "  You  know  Tommy, 
of  course;  everybody  knows  Tommy,  Ed- 
mondson's  boy.  Extraordinary  chap,  that, 
eh?  I  should  say  so.  Well,  I  met  that 
amazing  lad  a  month  or  so  ago,  riding,  and 
he  gave  me  a  killing  account  of  this  chap 
Tenterden.  He  says  that  he  is  so  awfully 
gone  on  Miss  Bessie  that  he  feels  sorry  for 
him,  seeing  him  mooning  around  like " 

"  Mooning  around  ?"  repeated  Mainwaring, 
with  a  sickly  smile. 

"  Yes,  mooning  around ;  and  you  should 
have  seen  the  look  of  woe-begone  misery 
that  chap  managed  to  throw  into  that  freckled 
mug  of  his." 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       207 

"  It  must  have  been  very  amusing !" 
(dryly). 

"  Amusing !  Why,  I  roared !  I  was  near 
rolling  off  my  horse.  Oh,  yes,  I  remember, 
— and  he  said,  '  Mr.  Sanderson,  you  ought  to 
see  him  when  he  catches  sight  of  her  passing 
around.  Why,  sir,  he  comes  to  as  dead  a 
stand  as  our  Beppo  at  a  covey  of  partridges  !' 
Poor  devil,  I  know  how  he  feels :  I  was  just 
as  bad  over  Polly, — eh,  little  one?" 

"  You  were  perfectly  dreadful,  Jack,  that's 
a  fact,"  replied  happy  Poll. 

"  Why  don't  the  idiot  pull  himself  together 
and  try  his  luck,  eh,  Mainwaring?" 

"Yes,  why  don't  he?"  echoed  Polly. 
"  Every  Virginia  woman  believes,  as  an 
article  of  faith,  that  when  a  man  loves  a  girl, 
she  is  entitled  to  hear  it." 

"  He  has  done  so.     He  has  proposed." 

"  You  don't  say  so  !"  cried  Polly,  eager  as 
a  war-horse  when  he  hears  the  blast  of  a 
trumpet.  "  Poor  fellow !" 


208       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"  But  he  was  accepted  !" 

"Accepted!     Oh,  I  am  so  sorry!" 

"  Sorry  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  am  sorry !  I  don't  know 
this  horrid  Mr.  Tenterden,  and  Bess  and  I 
are  such  friends,  and  you  and  Jack  have 
always  been  such  chums  !  It  is  just  too  pro- 
voking !" 

"You  might  like  Tenterden  just  as  well  as 
you  do  me." 

"  Never !"  cried  the  impulsive  little  body ; 
"  I  dislike  him  extremely  already.  Such  a 
nice  little  scheme  to  be  broken  up  by  this 
miserable  interloper !" 

"  But  he  is  just  like  me " 

"I  don't  care!" 

"  Even  in  name.  That  is  the  strangest 
coincidence  of  all." 

"His  name?" 

"  The  name  of  the  lucky  dog — would  you 
believe  it? — Is  William — Tenterden — Main- 
waring  !" 


XXXIII. 

"  Now  sit  just  here,  under  this  nice  old 
tree,  and  tell  us  all  about  it.  You  need  not 
make  any  more  signs,  Jack ;  I  shan't  under- 
stand them !  Right  here  shall  I  sit  and  hear 
it  all.  How  you  men  love  mysteries !  And 
what  would  be  the  use?  You  know,  sir,  I 
should  make  you  tell  me  every  word;  else 
not  one  wink  of  sleep  for  you  this  blessed 
night !  '  There,  set  it  on  that  little  table,  Mr. 
Mainwaring,  at  your  elbow.  I  gathered  the 
mint  with  my  own  hands,  and  can  vouch  for 
its  freshness.  I  think  you  will  find  it — h'm  ?" 

"  De-li-cious !  What  do  you  call  this 
divine  mixture?" 

"Never  had  a  julep  before?  By  Jove,  I 
envy  you,  old  chap!  Making  its  acquaint- 
ance is  as  sweet  as  the  first  kiss  of  love. 
Don't  pout,  Poll;  I  didn't  quite  mean  it. 
o  1 8*  209 


2 i  o       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

Ah,  that's  a  good  little  girl.  Then  you  have 
never  heard  the  story  of  the  Virginia  chap 
who  taught  the  Kentucky  chap  to  put  grass 
in  his  liquor  ?  Never  ?  Good !  You  see, 
there  was  a  chap,  once " 

"  For  goodness'  sake,  Jack !" 

"Well,  I'll  be  good,  Poll!"  said  her  big 
husband,  removing  her  hand  from  his  mouth 
and  patting  it.  "But  for  juleps  and  the 
dearest  girls  on  earth  I'll  back  the  Old 
Domin All  right,  Polly;  go  on,  Main- 
waring." 

No  wonder  Jack  was  popular  throughout 
the  county! 


XXXIV. 

MAINWARING  was  an  only  child,  and  was 
left  an  orphan,  but  heir  to  an  estate  sufficient 
to  render  the  study  of  any  profession  un- 
necessary. When  he  left  his  university, 
therefore,  possessed  of  good  looks,  a  robust 
constitution,  and  a  fortune  ample  for  all 
reasonable  needs,  he  began  the  happy  life 
which  seemed  to  lie  before  him  by  knocking 
about  the  world  for  two  or  three  years.  It 
so  happened  that,  during  these  peregrina- 
tions, he  had  met,  in  Cairo,  an  elderly  Aus- 
tralian, also  on  his  travels,  who  bore  the 
same  name  with  himself.  The  old  gentle- 
man, who  was  in  poor  health,  took  very 
kindly  to  the  stalwart,  good-humored,  and, 
as  he  had  many  opportunities  for  judging, 
unselfish  and  obliging  young  fellow ;  so  much 
so  that  he  showed  himself  solicitous  to  prove 


212       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

a  distant  relationship;  a  whim  which  the 
younger  man  humored  through  amiability 
rather  than  conviction.  A  few  months,  how- 
ever, after  his  return  to  England,  he  was 
amazed  to  learn  from  a  law  firm  of  Mel- 
bourne, that  their  client,  Mr.  Mainwaring, 
had  left  him  his  entire  fortune;  a  windfall 
by  which  his  income  was  more  than  quad- 
rupled  

"  I  remember  hearing  of  your  good  fortune 
at  the  time,"  interrupted  Sanderson. 

"  What  a  lucky  man !"  exclaimed  Polly. 

"  So  I  thought  at  the  time,  I  remember." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say " 

"  I  mean  to  say  that  that  fortune  proved  an 
unmitigated  curse." 

Even  while  at  the  university,  Mainwaring 
had  taken  a  lively  interest  in  the  condition 
of  the  laboring  classes  and  other  social  ques- 
tions. But  with  the  moderate,  if  sufficient, 
income  derived  from  his  grandfather,  sym- 
pathize as  he  might,  he  was  practically 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       213 

powerless.  He  might  be  liberal  with  shil- 
lings, half-crowns,  sovereigns ;  and  he  was 
lavish  in  that  small  way;  but  he  felt  that  he 
was  bailing  out  the  ocean  of  human  misery 
with  a  thimble;  or  even,  as  he  sometimes 
feared,  adding  to  it.  But  now  this  Australian 
fortune  had  come  to  him.  And  wealth  was 
power.  For  power  he  did  not  care.  But  it 
was  also  responsibility.  That,  being  such  as 
he  was,  he  neither  could  nor  would  shake  off, 
he  would  spend  his  life  assuaging  suffering. 
But  how? 

Earnest,  conscientious,  and  thoughtful,  he 
set  about  discovering  this  how  in  the  most 
methodical,  painstaking  way.  He  read  books 
and  pamphlets  without  number,  consulted 
with  reformers  and  philanthropists,  socialists 
and  clergymen.  He  went  from  institution  to 
institution  planned  by  others.  But  the  more 
he  observed,  examined,  thought,  the  bigger 
grew  his  doubts ;  till,  at  last,  the  bark  of  his 
enthusiasms  and  hopes  went  to  pieces  on  the 


2  T  4       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

rocks  of  scepticism.  All  efforts  to  ameliorate 
the  condition  of  mankind  had  proved  dismal 
failures — or  worse, — and  if,  here  and  there, 
something  had  been  accomplished,  the  harm 
done  by  ill-considered  devices  more  than 
counterbalanced  the  good  wrought  by  wiser 
efforts.  He  still  gave — gave  freely — but  with- 
out hope.  For  he  had  become  convinced 
that  concentrated  wealth,  though  potent  for 
evil,  was  impotent  for  good. 

"Behold  one  illusion  gone!" 

"  But,  surely,  you  could  relieve  such  suffer- 
ing as  came  under  your  eye?  And  were 
your  friends  and  relatives  all  rich  ?" 

Mainwaring  lifted  his  goblet  to  his  lips  as 
if  to  draw  consolation  and  strength  from  its 
fragrant  depths;  muttering,  sotto  voce,  amid 
the  mint  and  ice : 

(If  I  live  a  thousand  years,  and  write  a 
thousand  books,  somewhere,  in  every  one  of 
them — trust  me,  my  friends — you  shall  find  a 
julep  nestling!) ' 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       215 

"Infandnm,  regina,  jubes  renovare  dolorem" 
whispered  the  melancholy  millionaire. 

"What  does  that  mean,  Jack?" 

"  It  means,  Let  us  wet  our  whistles  and 
proceed  with  the  harrowing  tale !" 

"  Fib !"  laughed  Polly,  punching  his  vast 
shoulder  with  her  ridiculous  little  fist. 

"  Go  on,  Mainwaring.  \jChink  f\  I'm  with 
you ;  luck !" 

"  You  are  quite  right  to  call  it  a  harrowing 
tale.  [  Chink  /]  Same  to  you  !  I  had  flat- 
tered myself,  before  I  came  into  this  fortune, 
that  I  had  rather  more  friends  than  most 
young  men.  I  soon  came  to  doubt  whether 
I  had  one  in  the  world.  Adversity  drives 
away  the  cowards  and  sneaks ;  but  there  is 
the  consolation  of  knowing  that  the  two  or 
three  who  stand  by  you  are  true.  But,  un- 
fortunately, the  good  and  the  true  are  just 
the  men  likely  to  make  themselves  scarce 
when  sudden  prosperity  draws  around  a  man 
a  swarm  of  parasites  and  flatterers.  So,  at 


2 1 6       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

least,  I  found  it.  A  king — and  a  millionaire 
— may  have  friends,  but  they  have  no  means 
of  knowing  who  they  are.  And  if  there  is 
one  thing  in  the  world  that  makes  life  worth 
living,  it  is  friendship " 

"  And  love  ?"  suggested  Polly. 

"  Same  thing !"  put  in  Sanderson  :  "  love 
is  nothing  but  red-hot  friendship !" 

"  Perhaps,"  laughed  Mainwaring.  "  But, 
to  cut  a  long  story  short,  my  ill-omened  for- 
tune, as  a  mere  matter  of  fact,  cut  me  off  from 
all  who  were  my  friends,  and  surrounded  me 
with  those  who  desired  to  seem  such.  The 
former  fought  shy  of  me,  believing,  all  the 
while,  too, — ah,  that  was  bitter, — that  /  was 
despicable  enough  to  avoid  them.  So  that 
I  lost  not  only  their  regard,  but  their  respect. 
Nor  did  I  gain  that  of  the  horde  of  snobs 
and  sharks  who  surrounded  me.  They  de- 
spised me,  very  naturally;  not  stopping, 
always,  at  contempt.  In  one  instance,  cer- 
tainly, I  earned  bitter  hatred. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       217 

"  Among  my  distant  relatives  was  a  young 
woman  [Polly  straightened  herself]  whom  I 
regarded  almost  in  the  light  of  a  sister. 
[Polly  lolled  back  in  her  chair].  As  she  was 
left  penniless  at  the  death  of  her  father,  I 
rescued  her  from  going  out  as  a  governess  by 
a  yearly  allowance.  She  married  a  worthless 
fellow,  who,  thinking  that,  as  her  husband, 
he  would  have  an  easy  time,  living  on  my 
bounty,  soon  entered  upon  an  extravagant 
mode  of  life,  looking  to  me  to  foot  the  bills. 
I  did  so  once,  but  with  a  serious  warning; 
which  was  disregarded.  Then  came  inso- 
lence on  his  part,  and  from  her  (when  I 
proved  inexorable)  a  letter  full  of  bitter  and 
insulting  reproaches.  My  cup  was  full.  No ; 
for  it  was  to  be  fuller.  One  of  my  old-time 
friends,  who  had  met  with  undeserved  re- 
verses, lost  his  only  child  through  privations 
which  I  could  have  relieved.  I  had  known, 
in  a  vague  way,  that  his  circumstances  were 
straitened;  but  he  had  avoided  me.  I  was 
K  19 


218       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

piqued.  Why  does  he  not  come  to  me?  I 
muttered,  in  the  insolence  of  wealth.  Well, 
perhaps  not,  Jack :  I  hope  I  was  never  really 
that.  Perhaps  I  was  hurt  that  he  should  think 
so  ill  of  me;  but  the  result  was  the  same. 
His  child  died, — and  I  could  have  saved  it. 

"  I  could  give  dozens  of  other  experiences 
that  were  discouraging,  to  say  the  least ;  but 
these  two  incidents,  coming  within  a  week 
of  each  other,  were  too  much  for  me.  I  re- 
solved to  flee  from  my  surroundings.  I  had 
seen  Europe  and  the  East.  I  took  passage 
for  America.  Perhaps  there  was  less,  misery 
there !  My  departure  was,  perhaps,  hastened 
by  a  little  incident  of  a  purely  personal 
nature,  but  I  shall  not  trouble  you  with  that. 
When  I  reached  New  York " 

"  Stop,  old  boy ;  you  don't  know  Polly. 
If  you  don't  tell  her  that  incident  of  a  purely 
personal  nature,  she  won't  sleep  a  wink  to- 
night, Curiosity  ?  Ugh !" 

"  Oh,  it  is  a  very  dull  story " 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       219 

"  Perhaps  we  might  be  of  a  different 
opinion,"  urged  Polly. 

"  I  can  see,  from  the  way  her  eyes  are 
dancing,  that  she  feels  sure  there  is  some- 
thing in  it  about — eh,  old  chap  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  love  Love !"  cried  little  Polly,  clasp- 
ing her  hands  in  fervid  entreaty. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  will  have  to  give  in,  old 
boy.  Luck!"  (Chink!} 

The  old  boy  gave  in.     (Chink!) 

It  would  seem  that  our  hero  (Polly  was 
glad,  on  Bessie's  account,  that  the  affair  had 
been  so  prosaic)  after  dodging,  for  a  few 
seasons,  sundry  enterprising  mammas,  had 
put  an  end  to  such  persecution  by  proposing 
to  the  daughter  of  a  widowed  neighbor. 
They  had  been  friends  from  childhood,  and 
seemed  likely  to  be  nothing  more.  But  one 
evening  in  June  (now  nearly  a  year  since), 
under  the  triple  influence  of  music,  moon- 
light, and  roses,  he  had  suddenly  proposed, 
and  been  haltingly  accepted. 


22O       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

The  period  of  their  engagement  had  not 
proved  a  happy  one  to  Mainwaring.  He 
was  constantly  chilled  by  the  inexpugnable 
reserve  of  his  betrothed.  "  Have  I  not 
promised  to  marry  you  ?  What  more  proof 
do  you  want?"  Her  mother  assured  him 
that  it  was  merely  her  daughter's  undemon- 
strative way;  but  this  did  not  satisfy 
Mainwaring,  who  knew  how  impulsive, 
frank,  and  affectionate  she  had  been  from 
childhood. 

The  end  came  one  evening  about  a  week 
before  the  day  set  for  the  marriage.  She 
acknowledged,  in  bitter  tears,  that  she  did 
not  love  him :  she  had  merely  hoped  that  she 
would  learn  to  do  so.  She  respected — yes, 
in  a  certain  way  loved  him  too  well  to  carry 
the  deception  to  the  bitter  end.  She  did  not 
say  that  she  had  felt  it  to  be  her  duty  to  love 
him.  That,  he  read  between  the  lines.  She 
had  heroically  resolved  to  sell  herself  for  the 
sake  of  her  young  brothers  and  sisters ;  but 


'Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       221 

her  native  nobility  had  triumphed  at  the  last 
moment. 

"And  now,  Mrs.  Sanderson,  you  see  the 
three  blessings  that  followed  in  the  train  of 
my  good  luck.  First,  I  lost  faith  in  my  ability 
to  be  of  any  use  in  the  world ;  secondly,  it 
drove  away  from  me  my  true  friends,  and 
brought  about  me,  in  their  stead,  a  horde  of 
sycophants;  thirdly  and  lastly,  it  was  very 
near  enabling  me  to  buy  a  wife  who  loved 
another  man.  In  my  desperation  I  fled  to 
this  country.  But — what  does  Horace  say, 
Jack?" 

"  Don't  know  I'm  sure :  forgotten  all  about 
the  old  duffer." 

"  Well, 

1  Patriae  quis  exul 

Se  quoque  fugit  ?' " 

"  What  does  that  mean,  Jack  ?" 

Jack,  pressing  his  brow  in  his  left  hand, 

and  with  his  goblet  in  his  right,  bowed  his 

head  in  thought. 

19* 


222       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 
"Oh,  yes: 

"  An  exile  from  his  native  land 
Oft  finds  a  duck  on  a  foreign  strand." 

"  I  don't  believe  one  word  of  it !  Is  he 
telling  me  the  truth,  Mr.  Main  waring?" 

"  His  rendering  is  sustained  by  the  facts 
of  the  case." 

"  Oh,  I  see !     Poor  silly  old  Jack  !" 

"  She  is  the  dearest  little  girl,  Maimvaring ; 
luck!"  (Chink!} 

"  Well,  wishing  to  bury  myself,  for  a  while, 
I  chose  an  hotel  where  I  was  least  likely  to 
meet  any  of  our  compatriots.  My  dropping 
a  part  of  my  name  was  an  accident  due  to 
the  vivacious  intelligence  of  the  hotel  clerk. 
I  was  writing  my  name  on  the  register,  and 
had  gotten  as  far  as  "  William  Tenterden," 
when  it  suddenly  occurred  to  me  to  ask 
whether  I  could  have  a  room.  "  Certainly, 
Mr.  Tenterden.  Let  me  see, — yes,  No.  93, 
Mr.  Tenterden. — Here,  show  Mr.  Tenterden 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       223 

to  No.  93.  London  ?  Ah !"  I  was  amused 
at  the  briskness  of  the  young  man.  He  had 
christened  me  anew.  Very  well,  I  would  be 
Mr.  Tenterden.  I  liked  the  fun  of  the 
thing.  Besides,  I  should  be  more  effectu- 
ally hidden  under  that  name  than  if  I  bore 
my  own. 

"  I  spent  a  month  poking  about  in  all  sorts 
of  places  in  New  York,  and  was  not  long  in 
discovering  that  there  was  about  as  much 
hopeless  misery  there  as  in  London.  Mean- 
while, in  all  this  great  metropolis,  I  knew  not 
a  soul.  I  had  fled  from  the  world,  but  I  had 
not  escaped  from  myself.  For  weeks  I  en- 
dured the  agony  of  despair,  till — at  last — 
would  you  believe  it? — I  seriously  thought 
of " 

"Oh,  Mr.  Mainwaring!" 

"  Yes.  You  hardly  realize,  perhaps,  how 
true  it  is  that  extremes  meet  here,  as  else- 
where. There  is  the  despair  of  the  man 
destitute  of  everything ;  but  there  is  another 


224       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

despair,  and  as  bitter,  of  one  for  whom  all 
things  have  been  provided.  He,  like  the 
other,  lacks  hope.  The  most  miserable  mor- 
tals that  I  have  known  have  been  young  men 
(what  I  say  applies  to  them  only)  like  myself, 
who,  from  their  very  abundance,  could  im- 
agine no  good  thing  that  the  future  could 
hold  in  store  for  their  sated  bodies  and  jaded 
souls.  Perhaps  your  attention  has  never 
been  called  to  the  subject,  and  you  would 
doubtless  be  surprised  to  learn  how  frequent 
suicide  is  with  this  class.  Look  here." 
(Taking  from  a  pocket-book  a  number  of 
newspaper  slips.)  "  Here  is  a  list  of  victims 
that  I  collected  at  a  period  when  I  took  an 
almost  morbid  interest  in  such  subjects.  Let 
me  read  you  my  latest  clipping: 

'"SUICIDE  OF  AN  AUSTRIAN  MILLIONAIRE. 

"  '  VIENNA   DESPATCH    TO  THE   LONDON   CHRONICLE. 

" '  The  suicide  of  Herr  Stephen  von  Kegel, 
a  well-known  millionaire  and  man  of  fashion, 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       225 

and  one  of  the  handsomest  men  in  the  em- 
pire, has  created  an  immense  sensation  in 
Vienna.  Herr  Kegel  was  not  only  already 
very  wealthy,  but  was  heir  to  a  fortune  of 
about  twenty  million  florins.  He  was  quite 
a  young  man,  and  was  one  of  the  most 
prominent  sportsmen  in  Hungary.  The  cause 
of  his  suicide  is  absolutely  unknown.  On 
Thursday  he  was  at  Pesth,  and  he  was,  it  was 
declared,  in  the  gayest  of  moods,  and  yester- 
day he  shot  himself  on  his  father's  estate 
near  Stuhlweissenburg.' 

"  The  cause  of  his  suicide  was  absolutely 
unknown !  Was  not  the  hopelessness  of 
an  utterly  useless  life  cause  enough?  No 
wonder  he  was  in  the  gayest  of  moods,  when 
he  had  once  made  up  his  mind  to " 

"Oh,  Mr.  Mainwaring,  don't  talk  in  that 
dreadful  way !" 

"  Oh,  it  is  all  ancient  history  with  me  now. 
I  find  farming  a  most  soul-satisfying  occupa- 
tion, and  then — you  see " 

P 


226       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

"Oh,  I  see,  old  chap!  Shake?  Con- 
gratulations, I'm  sure — luck!"  (Chink /) 

"  By  the  way,  Mrs.  Sanderson,  there  is  a 
small  matter  which  has  been  worrying  me 
not  a  little.  You  see,  I  have  asked  Bessie  to 
become  Mrs. " 

"  Oh,  I  am  sorry  for  you,  young  man ! 
Just  think  of  it!  Bessie  has  undoubtedly 
written  Mrs.  William  Tenterden  and  Bessie 
Willis  Tenterden,  hundreds  of  times,  just  to 
see  how  it  looks.  And  then  to  be  told — 
oh!" 

"  You  have  put  your  foot  in  it,  old  boy," 
laughed  Sanderson. 

"  My  dear  madam,  please  devise  some  way 
of  getting  me  out  of  the  scrape !" 

"That's  right,  old  chap;  leave  it  all  to 
the  dear  girl.  By  the  way,  Poll, — just  one 
more,  eh  ?  Awfully  auspicious  occasion,  you 
know !  Ah,  good  little  girl !" 


XXXV. 

IT  was  Saturday  morning,  a  week  later. 
There  was  a  knock  on  Mr.  Warwick's  office 
door.  "  Come  in !" 

Mrs.  Willis  entered,  pale  and  agitated: 
"  Oh,  my  dear  old  friend,"  cried  she,  seizing 
his  hand,  "  what  shall  I  do !"  and,  dropping 
into  a  chair,  she  burst  into  tears. 

"  My  dear  madam,  what  can  be  the  matter  ?" 

"  My  poor  daughter !  Tenterden  is  not  his 
real  name !  I  heard  it  only  last  night,  and  I 
did  not  sleep  a  wink.  Judy  Geoffrey  says " 

"  The  she-devil !  I  beg  your  pardon, 
madam ;  but  that  woman !  So  she  has  dis- 
covered, has  she,  that  his  name  is  Main- 
waring  ?  What  would  you  say  if  I  told  you 
that  I  have  known  it  for  months  ?" 

"Oh,    Mr.   Warwick,    and    not    tell    me! 

And  there  was  poor  Bessie " 

227 


228       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

She  brushed  the  tears  from  her  eyes  and 
looked  up.  Mrs.  Willis  was  amazed.  This 
old  and  tried  friend  was  smiling, — yes,  actu- 
ally laughing!  What  could  it  mean! 

"  My  dear  madam,  dry  your  tears  and 
listen  to  me.  You  will  smile,  too,  before  I 
get  through  with  my  story.  However," 
added  he,  drawing  from  a  pigeon-hole  a 
package  tied  with  a  red  string,  "  first  read 
these  three  letters.  They  reached  me  this 
morning,  and  I  was  going  to  deliver  them  to 
you  this  evening." 

Mrs.  Willis  ran  her  eye  over  the  contents 
of  the  letters  with  feverish  haste,  breaking 
into  ejaculations  from  time  to  time. 

"Very  satisfactory;  but  how  is  this,  Mr. 
Warwick?  They  all  say  he  is  a  man  of 
wealth  ?" 

"  So  I  see,"  replied  the  lawyer,  his  fingers 
interlaced,  and  twirling  his  thumbs.  His  eyes 
were  shut,  his  lips  parted  with  a  happy  smile. 

"Why,  he  often  told  me  that  he  intended 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       229 

to  try  to  lay  by  a  little  money,  from  time  to 
time,  so  as  to  be  able  to  purchase  a  farm  after 
a  while!" 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  have  heard  him  tell  you  that, 
myself;  I  could  hardly  keep  my  face  straight." 

"  And  you  knew  all  the  time !" 

"  Certainly." 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  Mr.  Warwick,  explain 
the  meaning  of  all  this !" 

"  With  pleasure.  I  am  at  liberty  to  do  so 
now,  for  I  had  a  little  talk  with  him  on  his 
way  to  Sanderson's. 

"  Exactly  why  he  changed  his  name,  I  do 
not  know, — a  mere  whim,  I  suspect.  But  as 
his  pecuniary  dealings  through  me  were  im- 
portant, he  had  to  tell  me  his  real  name.  It 
was  a  professional  secret,  however ;  for,  as  he 
justly  observed,  it  would  have  been  annoy- 
ing to  you  to  know  that  he — a  member  of 
your  household — and  not  some  imaginary 
English  investor — ho  !  ho ! — had  taken  up 

the  mortgage  on  your  farm." 
20 


230       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

Mrs.  Willis  gave  a  quick,  little  satisfied 
nod. 

"  In  taking  up  the  mortgage,  his  original 
object  was  to  aid  Bob,  in  a  judicious  way. 
But,  after  a  while,  another  motive  came  into 
play, — yes,  very  obvious.  He  made  no  con- 
fidant of  me  in  that  matter;  a  lawyer's  ear 
hardly  seems  a  fit  depository  for  such — ah — 
ah — in  fact — well !  But  from  his  cautioning 
me  several  times  to  keep  his  pecuniary  cir- 
cumstances a  profound  secret,  I  began  to 
suspect  that  he  had  conceived  the  romantic 
idea  of  winning  Bessie's  heart,  unaided  by 
the  glamour  of  fortune."  (A  little  hitch  in 
Mrs.  Willis's  breath.)  "  When  he  gave  me 
his  English  references  he  acknowledged  that 

this  had  been  his  motive;  but  he  still 

There  they  go  now !"  cried  the  lawyer, 
making  a  dash  at  the  window,  upon  which 
he  rapped  vigorously ;  then,  hastening  to  the 
door :  "  Where  are  you  going  ?" 

"  We  are   going  to   spend  the   day  with 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       23J 

Mrs.  Willis,"  answered  the  chirpy  voice  of 
Mrs.  Sanderson. 

"  She  is  here  in  my  office." 

While  the  gentlemen  were  looking  for  a 
boy  to  hold  the  horses,  little  Polly  rushed 
into  the  office  and  embraced  Mrs.  Willis  with 
fervor :  "  Isn't  it  splendid !  He  and  Jack 
such  old  chums, — and  then  Bess  and  I !  Oh; 
I  am  just  too  happy !"  And  the  little  woman 
fairly  danced. 

"  Mrs.  Willis,"  said  Sanderson,  entering 
the  room,  "  this  is  my  old  friend  Mainwaring. 
we  were  neighbors  in  the  old  country,  as 
boys,  and  chums  at  college.  And  you  have 
had  him  in  your  house  all  winter  and  never 
gave  me  a  chance  at  him!" 

Half  an  hour  later  the  party  set  out  for 
The  Cedars;  the  gentlemen  leading,  Polly 
holding  the  reins  for  Mrs.  Willis, — a  risky 
arrangement.  And  she  was  near  smashing 
things  a  dozen  times,  so  busy  was  that  little 
tongue  of  hers,  picturing  the  future  that  was 


232        Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

to  be  so  happy  for  everybody :  "  And  to  think 
of  Bessie  being  the  mistress  of  that  fine  old 
place  across  the  creek!  And  oh,  he  has 
already  written  for  architects  and  landscape- 
gardeners  to  come  on !  And  she  is  not  to 
know  a  word  about  all  these  fine  doings  till 
after  the  wedding!  Jack  and  I  are  to  run 
down  to  Richmond,  and  I — oh,  what  fun  ! — 
am  to  break  the  news  as  to  the  change  of 
name.  And  his  gifts  to  the  bride — we  have 
consulted  about  all  that  for  hours.  He  has 
decided  upon — oh,  I  forgot!  Well,  I  sup- 
pose I  ought  to  tell  you.  Well  *  *  *  and 
*  *  *  and  *  *  *,  isn't  that  just  too  splendid? 
Dear  Bess,  won't  she  be  just  too  fine !  Oh, 
I'm  just  crazy:  that's  all!" 


XXXVI. 

A  FEW  days  later  Sanderson  and  his  wife 
were  in  Richmond.  They  had  just  sent  up 
their  names  and  were  awaiting  Bessie. 

"  How  on  earth  are  you  going  to  begin, 
Poll?" 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  Ah,  here  she 
comes !" 

Polly  handed  Bessie  a  thick  letter  from  her 
mother :  "  Read  it ;  Jack  and  I  will  entertain 
one  another." 

But  Bessie  would  not;  so  she  and  Polly 
fell  to,  while  Sanderson  twisted  about,  un- 
easily, in  his  chair.  Presently  Polly  drew  to 
her  a  sheet  of  paper  which  lay  on  a  table  at 
her  elbow,  and,  dipping  a  pen  into  the  ink, 
began  to  scribble  away  with  much  ado; 
without,  however,  uttering  one  word  the 

less. 

20*  233 


234       Gold  tJiat  did  not  Glitter. 

"  What  on  earth  are  you  doing,  Polly  ?" 

"  I  always  did  dote  on  scribbling." 

Every  now  and  then  she  held  out  the 
paper  at  arm's  length  and  studied  it,  drop- 
ping her  head  first  on  one  side  and  then  on 
the  other,  to  get  a  better  view.  At  last,  after 
a  grand  flourish,  she  laid  down  the  pen,  and 
raising  the  paper,  contemplated  it  with  great 
satisfaction. 

"  Ever  since  I  gave  my  hand  to  Jack,  it 
has  been  growing  more  English,  don't  you 
think  so,  Jack  ?"  And  she  thrust  the  paper 
under  his  nose.  Jack  took  it  and  glanced 
down  the  page  :  "  By  Jove !" 

"  Let  me  see  it,"  laughed  Bessie. 

"  Give  it  to  her,  Jack." 

At  the  first  glance  Bessie  gave  a  pretty 
little  blush.  (Oh,  Polly,  how  dreadfully  silly 
you  are!)  Polly  had  written  half  a  dozen 
times,  in  various  hands,  large  and  small, 
round  and  pointed,  the  words  Mrs.  William 
Tenterden.  Then  followed,  in  as  varied 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       235 

chirography,  Mrs.  William  Tenterden  Main- 
waring.  Bessie  looked  up  with  a  puzzled 
expression,  then  read  aloud  the  following: 
Faithfully  yours,  Bessie  Willis  Mainwaring. 
"What  do  you  mean  by  all  this,  Polly?" 

"  Mean  ?  What  do  people  ever  mean  by 
scribbling  ?  When  I  was  a  school-girl,  I  de- 
lighted in  writing  names  in  that  way,  imagin- 
ing myself  the  bride  of  various  heroes  of 
romance  with  ever  so  lovely  names.  I  wrote 
myself  down  Mrs.  Arthur  this,  Mrs.  Reginald 
that;  but  I  never  once  thought  of  putting 
myself  down  as  Mrs.  John  Talbot  Sander- 
son; yet  I  came  to  that  in  the  end.  Main- 
waring  is  lovely,  I  think, — Bessie  Willis 
Mainwaring !  Umgh !" 

"  Don't  you  think  Tenterden  has  a  nice 
sound?"  (A  little  blush.) 

"  W-ell,  yes, — nice  enough ;  but  just  hear 
the  two,  one  after  the  other:  Mrs.  William 
Tenterden — so  so ! — MRS.  WILLIAM  TENTER- 
DEN MAINWARING!  That's  a  mouthful  for 


2 3$       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

you !  If  that  was  to  be  your  name,  now ! 
Don't  you  agree  with  me,  Jack?" 

"  I  always  agree  with  you,"  replied  Jack, 
ready  to  explode.  His  little  wife's  vivacious 
dexterity  of  mind,  so  typically  American, 
was  a  constant  source  of  amused  amazement 
to  the  big  Englishman. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  two  to-day  ? 
Am  I  to  wait  till  some  beautiful  prince  of  a 
Mainwaring  presents  himself?  Why,  pray, 
didn't  you  think  of  that  earlier,  and  induce 
your  husband's  old  friend  to  pay  you  a  visit  ? 
Who  knows  what  might  have  come  of  it ! 
But  let's  see  what  mbther  has  to  say.  Why, 
how  astonishing!  She  writes  that  all  the 
trouble  Mr.  Warwick  was  at  in  writing  to 
England  was  useless, — that,  if  we  had  only 
known  that  Mr.  Sanderson  and  Mr.  Tenter- 
den  were  old  friends,  Mr.  S.  could  have  told 
us  all  about  him !  What  can  she  mean  ?" 

Sanderson  cast  an  appealing  glance  at  his 
wife. 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       237 

"Well,  you  see,  Bess,  Mr.  Mainwaring, 
when  he  arrived  in  this  country, — oh,  yes,  he 
is  in  this  country, — took  it  into  his  head  to  be 
known  by  his  mother's  name ;  so  he  dropped 
the  Mainwaring,  and  called  himself  Tenter- 
den  ;  so,  of  course,  Jack  didn't " 

"  Called  himself  Tenterden !" 

"  Certainly ;  so  you  are  to  be  Bessie  Main- 
waring,  after  all !" 

Bessie  started,  ominously  catching  her 
breath.  Crafty  Poll  threw  her  arms  around 
the  trembling  girl : 

"  Isn't   it  just    tOO    GLORIOUSLY    ROMANTIC  !" 

That  word  won  the  day. 

"  Poll,"  said  Sanderson,  as  they  walked 
back  to  their  hotel,  "  in  the  immortal  lan- 
guage of  Tommy  Edmondson,  you  are  a 
honey-cooler !" 


XXXVII. 

IT  required  infinite  tact,  keeping  Bessie  in 
the  dark  as  to  the  gilded  future  that  awaited 
her.  Bob  and  his  mother  were  often  at  their 
wits'  end.  As  for  Polly,  she  being  fifteen 
miles  away,  was  out  of  the  scrape,  till  a  few 
days  before  the  wedding,  when  she  and  San- 
derson drove  up  to  The  Cedars,  so  as  to  be 
in  the  thick  of  the  fray.  I  am  afraid  Polly 
fibbed  dreadfully,  upon  occasion.  There  was 
a  bevy  of  bridemaids,  from  a  distance,  in  the 
house.  Whenever  Polly  found  herself  alone 
with  one  of  these,  the  poor  little  woman  was 
like  to  burst  with  her  tremendous  secret.  It 
was  agony  to  her ;  for  silence  was  not  one  of 
Polly's  points.  As  it  was,  her  meaning  nods, 
her  lips  tightly  compressed  in  obtrusive  self- 
control,  filled  the  young  girls  with  burning 
curiosity.  At  last,  at  one  in  the  morning  of 
238 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       239 

the  great  day,  when  three  or  four  of  them 
were  clustered  in  one  room,  talking  them- 
selves hoarse,  instead  of  being  in  bed,  asleep, 
Polly,  with  her  hair  hanging  down  her  back, 
and  dressed  in  a  loose  wrapper,  thrust  her 
head  in  at  the  door :  "  Be  off  to  bed,  this 
instant,  you  silly  creatures.  But,  oh,  girls, 
if  I  could  only  tell  you  !  Spul-lendid  !  Good- 
night !  Pleasant  dreams, — and  be  sure  to 
look  your  loveliest  to-morrow  morning." 
There  was  a  pell-mell  rush  to  seize  her,  but 
she  was  gone ;  and  the  slam  of  her  door  was 
the  knell  of  their  hopes.  But  Polly  felt 
better. 

Two  arrangements  in  regard  to  the  wed- 
ding were  unusual.  Mainwaring  had  par- 
ticularly requested,  and  Bessie  had  consented, 
that  the  honeymoon  should  be  passed  at 
The  Cedars, — "  I  have  been  so  happy  here,"  he 
urged ;  further,  the  wedding-feast  should  be 
at  Bloomingmead.  That  her  betrothed  had 
bought  this  fine  old  (if  somewhat  dilapidated) 


240       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

place,  and  that  her  home  was  to  be  just 
across  the  creek  from  her  mother  and  Bob, — 
so  much  she  had  been  told ;  and  it  made  her 
very  happy.  True,  -she  feared  the  purchase 
had  been  a  severe  strain  on  his  resources; 
but  he  had  bought  it  to  please  her! 

Mainwaring  had  wished,  by  this  wedding- 
feast,  to  make  a  handsome  response  to  all  the 
hospitable  attentions  he  had  received  in  the 
county ;  but  he  could  not  ask  Mrs.  Willis  to 
give  the  entertainment,  while  he  footed  the 
bills.  It  was  Polly  who  was  inspired  to  sug- 
gest that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mainwaring  should, 
immediately  after  the  ceremony,  receive  all 
their  friends  at  Bloomingmead.  It  was  to  be 
a  grand  affair,  and  Polly  set  to  work  organ- 
izing her  staff.  I  am  sure  the  reader  will  be 
pleased  to  learn  that  of  this  staff  Mr.  Ed- 
mondson  was  the  chief.  "  What  ?  Bear 
malice?  I  hope  I  am  not  that  kind  of  a 
man !  Have  I  not  trotted  her  on  my  knee, 
many  a  time,  when  she  was  a  baby?  No, 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       241 

indeed !  Mainwaring  may  say  what  he  will 
about  his  English  mutton,  but  if  the  saddle  I 
am  going  to  send  from  that  five-year-old 
Southdown  wether  don't — well !"  And  no  one 
could  have  been  a  more  indefatigable  aide- 
de-camp  than  our  admirable  young  friend, 
master  Tommy.  He  and  his  pony  scoured 
the  country,  engaging  scrubbers  to  put  the 
old  house  in  order,  to  polish  the  wide  barn 
floor, — borrowing  people's  cooks  and  cooking 
utensils,  crockery,  knives  and  forks — every- 
thing that  was  needed. 

And,  during  all  this  time,  Termagant  stood 
in  her  stall,  stamping  and  fretting,  and  switch- 
ing her  tail  at  the  flies  that  persecuted  her. 

'Twas  a  dull  season  for  the  society  journal. 


21 


XXXVIII. 

THE  happy  day  has  come.  The  ceremony 
is  ended.  All  eyes  are  bent  in  admiration 
upon  the  fair  young  bride,  as  she  walks  down 
the  aisle,  then  along  the  paved  walk  to  the 
street.  There  is  a  halt.  The  carriage  is 
not  there.  ...  A  dozen  young  volunteer  run- 
ners dart  up  the  street :  "  Here  dey  is,  Unk 
Reuben !  Dey  done  married,  an'  at  de  gate 
a-waitin'  for  you !" 

Then  were  to  be  heard  the  proud  hoof- 
beats  of  high-steppers;  and  Uncle  Reuben, 
holding  the  reins,  emerged  from  around  the 
corner,  where  he  had  lain  in  ambush.  Two 
noble  bays,  bravely  accoutred,  their  silken 
coats  glistening  in  the  sun,  dashed  into  the 
street  and  up  to  the  gate,  while  behind  them 
rolled  silently  an  open  carriage,  new,  elegant, 
perfect  in  all  its  appointments. 
242 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       243 

But  Uncle  Reuben !  Ah,  it  was  a  joy  to 
behold  the  old  man.  He  was  adorned  in  a 
suit  that  Bessie's  grandfather  had  once  worn. 
It  had  lain  in  his  chist  thirty  years, — blue 
broadcloth,  buff  waistcoat,  resplendent  gilt 
buttons.  Upon  his  honest  breast  bloomed  a 
prodigious  bouquet ;  while  long  streamers  of 
white  ribbon  floated  out  behind  his  prehis- 
toric hat  of  wondrous  form. 

Great  was  his  costume;  but  greater  than 
his  costume  was  Uncle  Reuben.  'Twould 
have  broken  his  heart  had  he  known  that 
coachmen,  in  Mainwaring's  country,  were 
expected  to  sit  stiff  as  frozen  statues.  He 
could  not  have  done  it.  The  memory  of  old 
days  came  over  him ;  and,  as  he  moved  off 
with  his  precious  freight,  his  chest  bulged, 
his  elbows  stuck  out,  his  shoulders,  forgetful 
of  rheumatis',  played  like  those  of  a  defiant 
boxer.  And,  swelling  with  pride,  he  rocked 
to  and  fro  like  a  tall  ship  upon  the  hoary  sea. 
This  team,  this  carriage  was  something  like ! 


244       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

Oh,  no,  he  had  no  idea  of  exhibiting  their 
speed !  Let  the  people  have  a  chance  to  look. 
"  Dey  hadn't  seen  de  like  sence  b'fo'  de 
war !  Let  'em  look  good.  Wo-o-o,  boys  !" 

And  the  impatient  horses,  held  down  by  a 
firm  rein,  with  tossing  heads  and  quivering 
nostrils,  danced  down  the  village  street  as 
though  they  walked  on  eggs.  "  Jess  look  at 
Unk  Reuben !  Ain't  he  jess  a-settin'  back, 
who  but  he!" 

Yes,  take  a  long  look  at  him,  and  a  linger- 
ing. Those  proud  horses  are  not  his,  nor 
that  costly  carriage, — and  he  is  old  and  poor. 
Yet  he  rejoices.  So  let  us,  too,  rejoice  that 
in  these  days  of  va  victis  and  the  devil  take 
the  hindmost,  such  splendid  fragments  of 
loyalty  are  left  us — for  a  season. 

Reaching  the  end  of  the  straggling  village, 
the  old  man  gave  his  team  their  way,  and 
our  couple  were  soon  far  in  advance  of  the 
foremost  of  their  pursuing  guests.  Presently 
the  road  left  the  open  and  plunged  into  a 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       245 

shady  wood.  It  was  then  that,  for  the  first 
time,  Bessie,  feeling  that  they  were  alone, 
looked  about  her. 

"  What  carriage,  what  horses  are  these  ?" 
said  she,  with  sudden  wonder. 

"  They  are  yours,"  said  Mainwaring,  taking 
her  hand,  and  (just  as  likely  as  not)  squeez- 
ing it. 

"  Mine !  Oh,  Will,  what  dreadful  extrava- 
gance !"  And,  laying  her  hand  upon  his  arm, 
she  looked  up,  with  knit  brows,  into  his 
tender-smiling  eyes. 

Any  man  who  shall  blame  Mainwaring  has 
never  been  sweetly  scolded  by  a  beautiful 
bride  with  whom  he  is  driving  through  a  cool, 
shady  wood,  with  the  enemy  half  a  mile  in 
the  rear.  There  sat  Uncle  Reuben,  it  is  true. 
But  then,  coachmen  should  always  sit  like 
frozen  statues.  And  was  an  active  young 
man,  accustomed  to  out-door  sports,  to  sit 
with  his  arms  in  his  lap  forever?  So 

As   for   poor   Uncle   Reuben,  he  couldn't 

21* 


246       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

help  it.  For  some  months  he  had  been  keep- 
ing his  eyes  open,  and  been  putting  two  and 
two  together,  with  the  shrewdness  of  his 
race.  "  Talk  po',  does  he  ?  Umgh-humgh  ! 
Oh,  yes,  I  hear  him.  Umgh-humgh,  c'yarnt 
fool  Reuben.  Been  here  too  long,  chile." 
So,  as  he  heard  no  reply  to  the  charge  of 
extravagance,  he  thought  he  must  steal  a 
look  at  the  groom's  face.  Besides,  the 
wheels  had  just  run  over  a  root;  had  it 
jarred  Little  Mistiss  ? 

"  Oh,  Lordy,  I  ax  your  pardon,  young 
mahster.  I  was  afeard  dat  root  mought  'a' 
shake  you  up.  Nemmind,  Little  Mistiss,  I 
won't  look  round  no  mo' :  'fo'  Gaud,  I  won't. 
What's  ole  Reuben,  any  way?  He  ain't 
nothin'.  He  ain't  got  no  eyes,  no  ears,  no 
mouf,  no  nothin'.  Besides,  ain't  you  done 
married  out  un  a  book  an'  all  ?  You  ain't 
nothin'  but  chillun,  any  way ;  so  go  on  wid 
your  confectionments ;  Reuben  ain't  gwine 
tu'n  he  hade  no  mo'." 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       247 

Of  all  the  coachmen  that  he  had  ever 
seen,  Mainwaring  thought  this  one  the  most 
charming. 

"  All  right,  Uncle  Reuben ;  but  mind, — 
those  horses  need  watching."  And  he 
slipped  a  note  into  the  horny  hand  of  the 
old  man. 

"  What  I  tell  you,  Kesiah  ?  Talk  po',  did 
he?  Who  he  fool,  I  wonder." 


XXXIX. 

I  SHALL  not  attempt  to  describe  the  recep- 
tion,—a  combination  of  picnic,  barbecue,  and 
ball.  Everybody  wandered  where  he  would, 
feasted  when  hungry,  made  himself  at  home. 
Edmondson,  as  generalissimo  of  the  revels, 
came  out  exceeding  strong :  "  Go  off  and 
enjoy  yourselves,"  said  he  to  the  bride  and 
groom ;  "  I'll  keep  things  moving."  And,  in 
point  of  fact,  they,  freed  from  all  responsi- 
bility, did  wander  off  to  a  secluded  dell,  and 
there,  seated  on  a  moss-grown  log,  talked 
love  for  one  solid,  delicious  hour. 

There  was  a  real  city  band,  which,  at  four 
o'clock,  took  position  in  the  barn,  where  the 
Pouter  opened  the  ball  with  an  enchanting 
imported  widow,  and — rejoice  with  me,  reader 
— met  his  fate. 

"  Now,  that's  what  I  call  business,"  re- 
248 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.      249 

marked  Tommy  to  a  comrade.  "  Pop  has 
been  throwing  away  his  time  chasing  these 
young  pullets.  Now  he  is  crowing  round 
what  I  call  a  hen.  But  she  is  a  stepper,  ain't 
she?  But,  Lord,  look  at  Pop!  Don't  he 
shake  a  lively  toe  ?  Round-dances  ?  No, 
not  for  Pop, — arms  too  short  Get  her? 
You  bet!" 

And  he  did, — and  did  well.  Mrs.  Geoff's 
Judy  didn't  give  her  consent,  and  thinks  still 
that  it  was  all  a  mistake,  somehow ;  espe- 
cially since  she  had  heard  that  Mrs.  Edmond- 
son  has  said  that  she  didn't  blame  Bessie,  but 
she  couldn't  see  what  that  dried-up  old  thing 
could  have  been  thinking  about  when  she  let 
such  a  chance  slip.  And  as  for  Tommy,  his 
mamma  can't  understand  why  people  thought 
he  was  going  to  be  such  a  nuisance.  A  nicer 
boy  she  never  saw.  His  nose  was  fast  grow- 
ing into  shape,  his  freckles  were  disappearing ; 
in  fact,  he  was  certainly  going  to  turn  out 
a  really  handsome  man. 


250       Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

I  am  sure  I  never  said  anything  to  the 
contrary;  and,  in  bidding  Pop  and  Tommy 
good-by,  it  is  with  feelings  of  hearty  respect 
and  warm  good  will. 

As  we  catch  a  last  glimpse  of  Mrs.  Geoff's 
Judy,  she,  too,  is  happy.  For  she  has 
secured  the  landscape-gardener  as  cavalier, 
and,  seated  with  him  in  a  cool  corner,  is 
sipping  champagne  and  nibbling  pate  de  foie 
gras. 

The  architect,  a  handsome  young  fellow 
from  New  York,  created,  at  first,  quite  a 
furor  among  the  neighborhood  girls,  with  his 
picturesque,  artist-face  and  beautiful,  dark 
eyes;  till  it  leaked  out,  unhappily,  that  he 
had  a  lovely  wife  of  his  own,  at  home ;  after 
which  he  had  to  lean  upon  the  saddle  of 
mutton  for  support,  and  steady  his  nerves 
with  a  julep.  So  even  he  was  happy. 

So  were  they,  all  of  them.  And,  to  all  of 
them,  good-by! 


XL. 

THE  bridemaids,  with  Jack  and  Polly,  were 
taking  tea  with  the  happy  pair  at  The  Cedars. 
With  one  exception,  everything  had  gone 
beautifully.  There  was  one  thing  that  made 
the  bridemaids  wretched.  The  groom's  gifts 
to  the  bride  had  been,  unhappily,  delayed  on 
the  road.  (Polly,  who  was  in  the  plot,  knew 
better.  They  had  been  locked  up  in  Mr. 
Warwick's  safe  for  a  week.) 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  front  door. 
Reuben  went  out  and  returned. 

"  Mr.  Warwick  man  done  come  wid  some 
things." 

Polly  flew  out  of  the  room,  and,  a  moment 
after,  thrust  her  head  in  at  the  dining-room 
door :  "  ^Lv-zr-y-body  come  into  the  parlor !" 

A  wild  flutter  of  skirts.     Mainwaring  rose, 

lit  a  cigar,  and  sat  down  again. 

251 


252        Gold  that  did  not  Glitter. 

But  the  scene  in  the  parlor!  Parcel  after 
parcel  was  handed  to  Bessie,  who  untied 
them  with  eager  ringers ;  and,  as  she  lifted  the 
tissue-paper,  lovely  heads  were  bumped  to- 
gether, over  the  exquisite  and  costly  products 
of  Tiffany's  art.  There  were  long-drawn 
breaths,  and  oh-oh-ohs  without  number. 

Bessie  was  untying  the  last  package.  She 
suddenly  laid  it  upon  the  table.  "  I  don't 
understand  all  this,"  said  she,  with  a  be- 
wildered, anxious  look. 

"I  will  tell  you  all  about  it,"  said  Polly, 
putting  her  arms  around  her.  ****** 
"  And,  Jack,  tell  her  about  the  ancestral 
silver,  over  in  England !" 

"  No  end  of  it,"  quoth  Jack. 

"And,  oh,  Bess,  he  is  going  to  take  you 
over,  next  month  !  And  you  can  see  it  with 
your  own  eyes !" 

"Oh-oh-oh,  Bess!"  ohed  all  the  bride- 
maids  with  conviction. 

Wide-eyed,  like  a  startled  fawn,  the  young 


Gold  that  did  not  Glitter.       253 

bride  stood  for  a  moment.  And  upon  the 
azure  there  was  a  sudden  glitter,  as  of  dew 
upon  violets.  And  she  ran  out  of  the  room, 
leaving  a  startled  silence  behind  her. 

The  bridemaids  stood,  with  parted  lips, 
breathless,  half-smiling — 

As  though,  even  through  that  closed  door, 
they  hoped  to  catch  the  murmur  of  a  most 
pleasing  sound. 

"  Somebody  kiss  me  quick !"  said  Jack. 

"  Pooh !"  poohed  Polly,  she,  too,  taking 
aim  at  the  door  with  her  off  ear. 


XLI. 

BESSIE  stopped  suddenly,  close  behind  the 
deceiver.  He  heard  the  dear  rustling;  and, 
leaning  back,  smiled  at  her,  over  his  shoulder. 
And  she,  springing  forward,  clasped  his  new- 
reaped  chin  in  both  her  hands;  pressed  his 
head  convulsively  against  her  snowy  neck. 
Then  (what  could  he  do,  with  his  helpless 
head  twined  about  so  closely  by  those 
smooth,  round,  tender,  shining  arms  ?) — 
then: 

"You  aw(!)ful(!)  fib  (!)ber  (!)" 

"  I  shall  (! !)  never  (! !)  tell  (! !)  the  truth  (! !) 
again  (!!!!)" 

And  so,  a  bad  beginning  made  a  good 
ending. 

254 

FINIS. 


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